


Finding Home

by Duffydog



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 22:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21205190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duffydog/pseuds/Duffydog
Summary: In this story, there is no Admiral Janeway. Also, I am following Rick Berman’s original plan for Seven of Nine, as described on the Voyager DVD for Season Seven. I only wish he’d stuck to it.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is for Jinny R, who read a first draft of parts 2 and 3 in 2004 and promptly scrawled across it in large letters – FINISH THIS. Periodically, I’d find that draft, see her note, and my conscience would nudge me. Well, Jin, it’s taken a while but it’s finally finished.  
As always, many thanks to Shayenne who continues to keep me on the right track (no pun intended).
> 
> Disclaimer: They still all belong to Viacom/Paramount, or whatever corporation owns them now.

Chakotay tossed and turned restlessly in his bed, moaning as his dream consumed him. The dream in which he was finally achieving his greatest desire – making love with Kathryn. Closer and closer they came together….

And then he woke up.

Disoriented and groaning at the intensity of the dream, Chakotay lay still for several minutes, trying to get his bearings. What a dream! He hadn’t experienced one like that for close to a year. “I thought I’d gotten past those feelings for Kathryn,” he muttered to the empty room.

With a grunt followed by a sigh of resignation, he got out of bed and headed into the bathroom, wondering why he would have such a dream now, just when he was contemplating whether to start a relationship with Seven. Was his subconscious trying to tell him something? Maybe….

* * *

In her quarters, Kathryn Janeway was comfortably settled in her favourite armchair, her feet propped on an ottoman, reading her beloved Dante. After a long shift that had been stretched even further with a small emergency in Engineering, she was finally able to relax with one of her very favourite books – _La Vita Nuova_. Although she had read it before, several times in fact, tonight she needed something to soothe and calm her mind.

She had just gotten nicely into it and was thinking how well the elegant passages had stood the test of time, when she became aware of several muffled groans echoing from Chakotay’s cabin next door. Pausing, she listened intently, waiting to hear if the noise was repeated. There it was again, sounding like moaning with an odd sort of grunt at the end. He could be snoring – that might be all it was – but then she became aware of water running and realized he must be in the bathroom.

For a moment longer she hesitated before curiosity won out. “Computer. Is Commander Chakotay awake?” Although she knew he must be. Why else would the water be turned on? Still, she wanted to make sure.

“Affirmative.”

“Janeway to Chakotay.”

There was a pause of nearly a minute, and she’d just begun to think both she and the computer must have been mistaken, before he replied, “Chakotay here. Is there a problem?” While his words were perfectly normal, his voice was not. There was an odd note in it which she couldn’t place. Suddenly, every instinct was on alert.

“No, not for me,” she hastened to reassure him, “but I heard you just now and wondered if you’re all right.”

Several seconds passed before he answered. “I’m fine, Kathryn, no need to worry.” But his voice continued to sound strained, almost as if he were forcing out the words.

Succumbing to impulse, she announced, “I’m coming over. Janeway out.” Which effectively cut off his reassuring reply that really, she didn’t need to bother.

“You see?” He told her when he opened the door in response to her chime. “I’m fine.”

By now, he had his voice under control, and she would have believed him if she hadn’t seen something in his eyes. “No, you’re not,” she declared firmly, her mouth tightening with concern, then pushed past him to sit down on his couch. “What’s the problem?”

Chakotay shook his head in resignation. She knew him far too well. Plunking himself onto the couch beside her, he debated what he could say that would allay her fears. But the words wouldn’t come; he was tired, frustrated, his emotions still wrought up by the dream. _What the hell?_ he decided abruptly. _She wants to know? I’ll tell her everything and see what her reaction is. Maybe it will help me come to a decision about Seven._

“I had a dream,” he began, “a very intense dream…about us.”

Kathryn looked puzzled. “You mean…‘us’ as in the crew, or …?” Her voice trailed off as he shook his head.

“ ‘Us’ as in you and me,” he answered.

As he continued to speak, relating the dream in more graphic detail than he’d originally intended, Kathryn listened without interrupting.

Although her face was calm, inside her feelings were on a rollercoaster. After all this time, all these years, Chakotay still loved her. In a way, it was quite gratifying. But she knew she must keep a tight rein on her emotions, mustn’t let him know how much she loved him too, for if she did, she was sure he would try to coax her into a more intimate relationship and that simply couldn’t happen. For the good of the ship, she had to put her feelings – their feelings – aside. As always, all her focus, all her attention must be on the crew and their common goal to get home. And they would, she was more sure of it every day.

There were other reasons, too, why she couldn’t become involved with her first officer. What would Starfleet think? While there were no rules specifically forbidding personal relationships between officers, protocols concerning fraternization were quite explicit, particularly in regard to the conduct of a ship’s captain. Very simply, as the senior officer, she could not indulge herself with anyone under her command.

As well, Starfleet Command had not yet communicated a final decision about the fate of the Maquis, and although Kathryn was prepared to fight for her crew tooth and nail, she was well aware that her word wouldn’t carry much weight if it were known she was in bed with their renegade leader. For his own good, she had to keep Chakotay at arm’s length.

As she heard him out, these thoughts flitted through her head as they had so many times before. This time, however, her resolve was tested as he described how they had made love, his face softening with an indescribable expression of happiness and joy as he spoke. At the end, when he glanced up, the intensity of his gaze left no doubt that he wouldn’t mind making the dream reality, if only she would let him.

Clenching her hands together, Kathryn tried to force out the words that would destroy his hopes. “Chakotay, I….” She paused to swallow the lump in her throat, then took a deep breath, making herself continue. “I’m sorry, I thought you’d gotten past those feelings a long time ago. We have a wonderful, warm friendship, one which I rely on, and I don’t want to lose that. I need you as a first officer and a friend. And that’s all. I hope I can still have that?”

Chakotay nodded. Much as he hated the idea of parameters, he understood Kathryn’s position very well and was willing to abide by her rules. He shrugged, thinking that he had his answer, anyway. There was no chance with her, there probably never had been. However, as she said, they _were_ close friends, so maybe she would have an idea about what he should do regarding Seven.

“I understand, Kathryn, and it’s all right.” He chuckled softly. “You insisted on coming over, you know, even when I tried to put you off.”

She was quick to smile in agreement. “Yes, I did.”

“Actually, as long as you’re here, there’s something else I’ve been thinking about. Maybe you could give me some advice.”

Glad to change the subject, Kathryn replied eagerly. “Sure. What is it?” However, her relief was short-lived as Chakotay explained that he’d had a couple of informal dates with Seven and was presently trying to decide whether or not to pursue the relationship.

Kathryn’s jaw dropped at this bombshell, but she managed to bite back her objections and hear him out. By the time he asked her what she thought about his dating Seven, she’d recovered enough to tell him that Seven was very lucky indeed to have him to guide her through her first serious romance, and that she wished them both well.

His expression drooped slightly at her quick acceptance of the idea but he didn’t question it, merely nodding and thanking her. “Your approval is essential before I go any further with Seven. You’re not only my best friend but hers as well.”

_Best friend_, she thought sadly even as she pasted a happy smile on her face. _I guess that’s all I can be, especially as long as we’re in the Delta Quadrant._ She knew Chakotay was watching her closely for her reaction and decided she better leave before she gave herself away.

“Good luck,” she told him, as she got to her feet. “Thank you for trusting me. And keep me updated on your progress,” she added as she headed for the door.

“I will,” he called out in reply.

* * *

Three days later, when Kathryn invited Chakotay to join her for lunch in the mess hall so they might sample Chell’s new menu, he declined, saying he had other plans. Although he didn’t spell it out, she understood that he was meeting Seven.

“Let me take a raincheck, would you?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” she promised, smiling warmly.

After he’d left, however, her smile faded and for a few moments, her eyes grew very sad until she reminded herself firmly that she had a ship to run and no time to waste on personal recriminations and might-have-beens. With renewed determination, she forced herself back to work.

* * *

Only a few days later, Voyager’s sensors made a momentous discovery which changed their fortunes in the Delta Quadrant permanently.

They found a Borg transwarp hub.

After considerable debate and discussion about what methods would allow them to both use it to get home and then destroy it, preferably without killing themselves in the process, the senior staff devised a plan.

B’Elanna announced that for some time now, at odd moments, she had been studying Borg technology from the bits and pieces they’d picked up over the past several years. She believed that she could modify two or three photon torpedoes, reconfiguring them to be powerful enough to destroy a cube.

“It’s a kind of transphasic modulation,” she explained. “I’ve been playing around with the idea for a while but until recently, I hadn’t figured out how to do it. However, Seven gave me a couple of suggestions and I think I’ve found a way.” She took a deep breath. “And there’s more. This is still theoretical, you understand, but it seems to me if the torpedoes can destroy a cube, there is no reason why they couldn’t also destroy the shielding in a transwarp conduit, which would in turn cause a cascade reaction that would destroy the entire hub. The idea is that we would enter the conduit to the Alpha Quadrant, fire the torpedo and scoot through just ahead of the explosion. It would be close, but I believe it could work.”

“And you’re ready to make these modifications?” asked Janeway eagerly.

“I haven’t tested them, Captain, if that’s what you mean. It’s still very experimental and certainly risky, but if it works…well….” She held out her hands. “We could be home.”

“That sounds very promising, B’Elanna. I want you to start on these modifications at once.”

“Yes, Captain, I’ll get on it right away. I’ll need Seven and probably Harry as well.”

“Take whoever you want. This is top priority.” The captain glanced around the conference table. “Anyone else have something to add? I’m open to suggestions.”

But there was a general shaking of heads, so she dismissed them with orders to get to work immediately.

With most of Engineering involved in the modifications, it didn’t take long for rumours to spread and the rest of the crew to quickly become aware of a new level of excitement and optimism. The captain, however, was reluctant to make any formal announcement until she had some definite results from B’Elanna.

Thirty six hours later, the word finally came from engineering. The modifications were complete and the torpedoes ready to go. B’Elanna did feel it necessary to warn Janeway again that the entire premise was based on untried technology. “It works in theory, but in practice? I can’t make any promises.”

But Janeway refused to be deterred when the goal was so close. “Well then,” she retorted, “this will be the field test.”

B’Elanna nodded, then added it might be a good idea to reinforce the shields. However, shortly after starting on the project, she went into labour, continuing to shout instructions to her crew even as she was being helped out the door to go to sickbay. Then, before the work could be completed, Harry announced that sensors had picked up several cubes heading directly for them on an intercept course.

Chakotay glanced at his captain. “If we’re going ahead with this, we’d better make it quick.”

For a moment longer, she mulled it over, then nodded decisively. “All right, people. Let’s do it.”

At once, the crew sprang into action.

“All hands, this is the captain. I’m sure you’re all aware by now of the possibility of reaching the Alpha Quadrant. It’s a risky procedure but I believe it’s the best chance to get home that we’re ever likely to have. So, we’re going to do it. It will probably be a rough ride, people, so secure all stations and batten down the hatches. Bridge out.”

She paused for a beat, then hailed Tom Paris. “We’re going in, Tom. I’m sorry but I need you at the helm right now. Report to the bridge immediately.”

In sickbay, Tom opened his mouth to protest but B’Elanna beat him to it. “Go. You’re our best pilot, flyboy, so get up there and get us home. Don’t worry. With the doctor here, I’ll be fine.”

He paused a moment longer before bending to kiss her gently. “I love you,” he murmured into her ear, then straightened and headed out the door.

As the door swished closed, B’Elanna lay back on the biobed. “Right, Doctor. We’ve wasted enough time. Let’s get this show on the road.”

Once Paris had settled at the helm, the captain directed him to set a course for the hub, then ordered Tuvok to have the modified torpedoes ready to fire. “We’ll only get one chance, so it has to be right the first time,” she warned the bridge staff.

Unable to stay seated, she got to her feet and moved forward to stand with legs apart and head up as she faced the viewscreen. Her entire attitude was one of steady confidence – this would work simply because she had decided it would.

Chakotay chuckled softly to himself at her defiance of the odds. So many times, he’d watched her achieve the impossible merely because she refused to accept anything less. _Well,_ he reasoned, _it’s worked before – no reason why it won’t again._ On that thought, he bent over his console to check the readings one more time, then peered over his shoulder at Seven who was manning the console directly behind him.

She felt his glance and looked down into his warm eyes, a fleeting smile crossing her face before she returned her attention to the panel before her.

But Chakotay had seen a lot of promise in that smile. If this should work, shortly he and Seven were going to have a lot of interesting possibilities to contemplate.

“We’ve reached the hub, Captain,” announced Harry at ops.

“Can you locate the conduit that leads to the Alpha Quadrant, Mr. Kim?” she inquired anxiously. This was the critical moment. If they couldn’t find the passage fast enough, they would have to abort the mission.

Long seconds passed as Harry worked frantically, then just as the captain was about to order Tom to reverse course, Harry gave a shout of triumph. “Got it! Tom, set a course for these coordinates – I’m feeding them to you now.”

Janeway glanced at him, then smiled ruefully at Chakotay who wasn’t even bothering to hide his grin. “Bypassing the chain of command…. Guess someone’s in a hurry to get home,” she remarked sotto voce.

As she spoke, the ship heeled over and dived into the conduit.

“Here we go,” announced Tom, as his hands flew across the controls.

Abruptly, Janeway was all business once more. “Tuvok, on my mark. Fire!”

Two torpedoes streaked away from Voyager.

At the same moment, Harry exclaimed. “A Borg sphere has followed us in!”

“Did the torpedoes hit it?” asked the captain, even as the ship was suddenly rocked hard to one side. “Obviously not,” she answered her own question. “Hold her steady, Tom.”

“I’m trying, Captain, but –” His voice broke off as Voyager sustained another hit.

“The torpedoes have successfully detonated,” announced Tuvok, “and the conduit is collapsing.”

“What about the hub?” inquired Chakotay.

“It is difficult to tell,” replied Seven. “The sensors are being obscured by debris….” She paused to concentrate on the panel, her fingers flying over it as she tried to make sense of the readings. “I don’t know.”

“Keep working on them,” ordered Janeway, even as the ship shuddered from the force of another strike. “Shields?”

“At thirty-nine percent and falling,” replied Kim, his fingers also dancing across the controls in front of him. “I’m trying to hold them together, Captain –”

“Take power from wherever you can, Harry,” ordered Janeway. “If we lose shields, it’s all over.”

Resuming her seat, she leaned over the console she shared with Chakotay, studying the sensor readings. “Just a little longer, Voyager,” she murmured, “hold together just a little longer.”

“She will, Captain,” whispered Chakotay reassuringly, “she hasn’t let us down in seven years.”

Janeway tossed him a quick smile of thanks before returning her attention to the readings.

In the noise and clamour of their passage through the transwarp corridor, for several minutes no one noticed a small rupture in the plasma conduit behind the consoles at the rear of the bridge, or that plasma was slowly leaking out. By the time Harry spotted a warning light on the operations panel behind him, the plasma had built up to dangerous levels.

“Ayala!” shouted Harry, “get back from that console! There’s a plasma leak!”

Seven, still manning the display behind the command deck, turned to grab Ayala’s arm and push him out of harm’s way. As he fell sideways, she tripped over his foot, causing her to fall onto the console at the exact moment it exploded directly in her face. Seven was thrown backwards into the railing, shattering her spine and leaving her sprawled unconscious on the floor, her implants flashing with uncontrolled energy as they short-circuited.

From his seat, Chakotay leaped to his feet and hurdled the railing to kneel beside her, feeling for a pulse. His eyes drilled into her face as he gripped her wrist, searching desperately, but even as his fingers detected a slight beat, it disappeared.

Seven was gone.

Horrified at the sight of her lifeless body, the crew stood frozen in shock as the ship began to lurch to one side.

In the sudden silence, Janeway shouted for calm, calling to her crew to look to their stations – Voyager was at a critical point and their very survival depended on them focusing their attention on the ship.

As each one turned away from the terrible sight, Chakotay smacked his hand against his commbadge. “Chakotay to transporter room one! Medical emergency! I need an emergency beamout for Seven of Nine to sickbay.”

As her body shimmered away, he rose to his feet and turned to face the captain, his face white with horror.

Janeway spoke quickly to forestall his obvious request. “Chakotay, I need you to monitor the sensor readings. I’m sorry.” But even as the words left her mouth, she realized she should have known better. Already, he was moving to take Seven’s place, although his fingers were trembling as he gazed at the console.

She shifted in her seat to look up at him, her eyes worried. “I’ll release you as soon as I can, but right now you’re needed on the bridge and focused on the task at hand.”

His throat too clogged with fear to speak, Chakotay could only nod. After a moment, he swallowed painfully and forced out words to tell her the sphere was gaining on them.

Several minutes passed in silence, punctuated only by Chakotay’s soft voice, mechanically reciting the readings until Harry announced the sphere had activated a tractor beam. Even as he spoke, they all felt the ship jolt slightly. “We’re being tractored inside the sphere, Captain,” he added.

“Hell of a way to arrive home,” muttered Tom Paris from the helm as he cut the engines, well aware that there was no use attempting to break free from the beam. Voyager simply didn’t have that kind of power.

The captain got to her feet once more, moving to stand behind Tom. “Be ready to engage impulse drive on my mark.” She glanced behind her to tactical. “Tuvok, is that last modified torpedo ready to go?”

“Aye, Captain. The torpedo is loaded and ready to launch.”

“Very good. Now we wait.”

In less than a minute, the sphere shuddered several times.

“Captain,” reported Chakotay, “sensors are indicating the sphere is under attack by weapons with a Starfleet signature.”

“That’s it!” exclaimed Janeway. “Tuvok, fire that torpedo! Harry, reinforce the shields as much as you can. It’s going to get very hot in here.”

“Yes, ma’am!” sounded Kim’s voice from ops, even as Tuvok announced that the torpedo had detonated inside the sphere.

“It’s working, Captain,” spoke Chakotay. “The sphere is collapsing. Tom, there’s a rupture on the port side that’s almost big enough for Voyager to escape through.”

“I see it, Commander.”

Janeway cut in. “Aim for that hole, Lieutenant, and go to full impulse on my mark. If we have to, we’ll punch our way through.” She paused for several seconds. “Mark!”

Immediately, Tom engaged impulse drive at maximum, angling the ship toward the hole just as the sphere exploded in a massive fireball. His eyes never leaving his course, he plowed through the debris, holding Voyager steady until she reached open space where they were faced with an armada of eighteen Starfleet ships.

Instinctively, Tom slowed their speed, his eyes focused on the sight before him, just as his crewmates were.

“We did it,” murmured the captain softly, her voice stunned, “we actually did it.” As her face broke into a triumphant smile, she turned to face Chakotay, ready to share her joy. However, one look at his pallor, the fear etched on his features, made her face slacken. Abruptly, she waved to the turbolift. “Go,” she told him.

Without a word, he hurried to the lift.

Just after he’d gone, the doctor hailed the bridge to announce Voyager’s newest arrival, a baby’s wail echoing in the background as he spoke. “Mr. Paris, there’s someone here to meet you.”

Janeway smiled. “We can take it from here, Tom, off you go. And congratulations. Tell B’Elanna I’ll be down soon to see her.”

Tossing a grateful smile in her direction, Tom trotted to the turbolift as several of his crewmates patted him on the back.

His heart pounding with excitement, Tom barreled into sickbay a few minutes later, his eyes flicking rapidly across the room in search of B’Elanna. Quickly, he hurried to her side, a huge smile bursting across his face as he spotted the tiny form nestled in her arms. “B’Elanna! Oh, sweetheart, look at her! Look what we made!” he exclaimed softly. As he caressed her cheek with one hand, he brushed the downy head of his new-born daughter. His voice fell to an awed whisper. “She’s perfect!”

Smiling tiredly, B’Elanna nodded. “She is, isn’t she?”

A low moan of despair interrupted her.

Looking up, Tom saw Chakotay huddled over the biobed nearest the wall while the doctor hovered nearby, checking readings on a tricorder. The sorrow emanating from both – man and hologram alike – was almost palpable. On the bed lay a figure, very still, a single lock of blonde hair trailing over the edge.

_It must be Seven,_ thought Tom with a sudden pang of guilt that in his delirious joy, he hadn’t spared a thought for the fate of the former Borg. Glancing at B’Elanna, he nodded towards Chakotay, a question in his eyes.

Grimacing slightly, she motioned him closer. “He came tearing in here just ahead of you. I thought he was coming to see me but he didn’t even notice me! He headed straight over there,” she indicated the biobed. “What happened, Tom? What’s going on?”

In a few words, he explained that there had been a plasma overload in one of the bridge consoles and Seven had taken the full force of the explosion.

B’Elanna sighed, her eyes filled with worry as she took in the miserable demeanour of her old friend. “What about Chakotay, though?” she asked, keeping her voice low. “He seems so distraught.”

Tom scratched his chin thoughtfully. “It looks to me like maybe there was something going on between them.”

“But it doesn’t make any sense! He doesn’t even like her very much,” she muttered angrily, then paused to look up at her husband with suddenly narrowed eyes. “Does he?”

“Don’t ask me, I’m as much in the dark as you.” Getting to his feet, he added, “I’ll go speak to him.”

As Tom cautiously approached the biobed, the doctor closed the tricorder with a snap, shaking his head sadly before turning to plod into his office.

Tom’s heart fell with the realization that Seven must be dead. Another loss, at the very moment Voyager had finally achieved their ultimate goal.

Even as he mourned her death, however, part of his mind was distracted by Chakotay’s evident grief. The doctor he could understand – the entire crew knew about his infatuation with her – but Chakotay? His reaction was like a lover’s, yet as far as Tom knew, there had never been the slightest hint of anything more than casual friendship between them. Chakotay was in love with the captain, everyone knew that, although Tom had to admit that in the last couple of years, the obvious attraction between the two had dimmed. But – Seven?! And their stoic first officer?! That didn’t fit at all.

As Tom moved to the side of the biobed, Chakotay sensed his approach and glanced up briefly.

Tom was shocked to see tears sliding slowly down his grief-filled face. “Chakotay?” he murmured softly, “Are you all right?”

For a few seconds, Chakotay stared at him blindly, then turned to look once more at Seven. Lifting one of her hands to his lips, he kissed it gently in obvious farewell and then laid it down at her waist. With a heavy sigh, he straightened and turned to walk silently out of sickbay.

Completely at a loss, Tom shook his head before returning to B’Elanna’s side.

“He didn’t say a word!” she exclaimed, staring at the closed doors in disbelief. “Nothing! Tom, he walked right past me as if I wasn’t even here. What is wrong with him?” Her voice was filled with hurt and confusion.

“I don’t know, B’Elanna,” Tom shrugged.

Abruptly, B’Elanna changed the subject, her voice dropping as her eyes shifted to the biobed where Seven lay. “What about Seven?”

He shook his head. “She’s dead.”

“Oh no!” B’Elanna’s voice was filled with sorrow. “I’m sorry!” She reached to grasp his hand. “We didn’t get along very well, but…she’s one of us.”

“Yeah,” he replied before falling silent. What else could he say? Each understood perfectly how the other felt and besides, there were no words that hadn’t been said before, every time they’d lost a member of their family.

Silently they mourned Seven’s passing.

In the quiet of sickbay, the baby’s sudden wail, announcing she was hungry, jarred them both, reminding them that there was life here as well as death.

As Tom watched B’Elanna position the child to nurse, he recalled a discussion they’d had a few days earlier. “Have you thought any more about her name?” he asked, nodding towards their daughter.

“I have,” answered B’Elanna, smiling at the little head. “And I think I’d like to call her Miral after all.”

Tom grinned, a wicked glint in his eye. “Ohh, so you’ve changed your mind, Miss ‘I do not want to be constantly reminded of my mother’!”

Her smile became slightly defensive. “I know what I said but now that I’ve actually seen her, it seems to fit…better than anything else.”

He chuckled affectionately. “Then Miral it will be.” His expression grew thoughtful. “I had an idea too, about names,” he remarked. “How would you feel about Kathryn for a second name?”

B’Elanna’s face broke into a delighted smile. “Tom, that’s a wonderful idea! Miral Kathryn Paris. It’s perfect.”

Bending close, he kissed her warmly, and then brushed his lips across the baby’s head. “I think it’s perfect, too. And so is she.”

Absorbed in their joy, neither noticed the doctor when he reappeared from the science lab, until he’d approached the other biobed. His movement eventually caught their attention however, and they paused in their admiration of Miral to watch as he gazed down at Seven. His miserable expression sobered them as they remembered there were equal measures of joy and sorrow here.

After a moment, the doctor silently covered Seven’s body before turning to cross the room to speak to them. “All scans indicate that you have a perfectly healthy baby. There is no trace of the genetic defect we corrected several months ago. If you wish, you may return to your quarters. However, Lieutenant Torres, I would caution you not to do more than rest for at least twenty-four hours if you wish to make a speedy recovery.”

B’Elanna nodded.

“Very well,” replied the doctor. “Of course, if you have any concerns….”

“We’ll call, Doc, don’t worry,” answered Tom. After a moment, he added, “I’m sorry about Seven. I know you were very fond of her. We all were.”

“Indeed we were,” responded the doctor in an unusually humble tone as his gaze drifted back to the covered form on the biobed. “Indeed we were.”

For a second, Tom debated whether to indulge his curiosity before temptation won. “Chakotay seemed to be pretty upset,” he remarked, “more than I would have expected.”

Holographic eyebrows drew together in a frown. “It’s a private matter, Mr. Paris,” he snapped, “and under the circumstances, better left that way.” Abruptly, he turned and disappeared once more into the science lab.

“Oo…kayy,” muttered Tom, turning to help B’Elanna get up.

However, before he could, his combadge chirped. “Janeway to Paris.”

“Paris here, Captain.”

“Sorry to interrupt, Tom, but I need you on the bridge.”

“Aye, Captain. On my way.”

B’Elanna sank back onto the pillows with a shrug. “Never mind, we’ll be fine here.” Her mind suddenly returning to the status of the ship, she thought to ask. “What happened with the Borg, by the way?”

He laughed as he bent to kiss her. “With everything else, I forgot to tell you. We made it! We’re in the Alpha Quadrant and on course for Earth.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “You’re kidding!”

“It’s true.” He tugged a portable console across the floor to the side of her bed. “Look for yourself.” Quickly, he activated the screen.

B’Elanna gazed awestruck at the sight relayed from the bridge to every monitor on the ship. Earth loomed large before them, directly in their path. Immediately surrounding Voyager were starships of all shapes and sizes, myriad lights flashing a welcome. The fleet was escorting them on the final leg of their journey home.

“After all these years!” she whispered, “It’s almost anti-climactic, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” he answered as he strode out the door.

* * *

Some weeks later, Kathryn Janeway hurried out of the main conference room on the twentieth floor of Starfleet Headquarters. Since Voyager’s return, she had been closeted with a board of inquiry, reliving every moment of her long journey through the Delta Quadrant as her conduct was examined in excruciating detail. Despite the public acclaim she and her crew had received upon their arrival on Earth, Starfleet Command had insisted on analyzing every decision, demanding justification for every action she’d taken.

She had been kept sequestered in the VIP wing of a building used as guest quarters for visiting dignitaries. Immediately after Voyager’s arrival, Command had whisked her away, insisting she have no contact with her crew although she had been allowed to spend her first two days on Earth with her mother and sister. But once she returned to Headquarters, she had remained alone; all she’d seen of her crew were brief glimpses in passing as she was escorted through the halls.

Now, however, it was all over. Finally, she was free to enjoy her accomplishments. Not only had Starfleet completely exonerated her but Admiral Nechayev had personally offered her a promotion to admiral. Although she had not as yet formally accepted, there was no doubt in her mind that she would. An admiral’s bars were the ultimate goal, the pinnacle of her career.

As well, Kathryn’s recommendations had all been accepted. The Maquis, including Chakotay, had received pardons, albeit on probation for a period of two years during which they were forbidden to join any military organization other than Starfleet. The surviving members of the Equinox crew received dishonourable discharges from Starfleet but would not be charged with crimes against sentient beings. And all the promotions and field commissions which she’d granted were now confirmed.

_Indeed,_ thought Kathryn as she strode across the great hall, _life is good and looking better._ She was anxious to find her crew, wherever they might be, and learn how each one was adapting to life on Earth. At the top of her list was her senior staff, particularly Chakotay. They had shared so much together for so long – it seemed strange not to have him by her side now.

_I’ll go up to Owen’s office,_ she thought, reversing her direction to head for the bank of turbolifts. _He’ll know where Tom and B’Elanna are and they’re bound to have some news._

When she arrived at Admiral Paris’ office a few minutes later, she was overjoyed to find not only the admiral, but Tom and B’Elanna as well, with Miral, paying a visit.

“Captain!” shouted Tom as he swept her into a bear hug, “we just got the news that you’re a free woman.”

Laughing delightedly, Kathryn gripped his shoulders as he swung her around before setting her on the floor.

“Indeed I am,” she answered, smiling, turning to see B’Elanna’s happy grin and receive a hug from her, too.

“We were just talking about you, Katie,” announced the admiral, gripping her shoulder. “Congratulations! This is wonderful news although, of course, they had to exonerate you. You’re the heroine of the Delta Quadrant after all.”

Kathryn rolled her eyes. “Oh, please! Don’t you start.” She turned to the baby. “Look at her. She’s grown so much.”

B’Elanna lifted up Miral, saying as she handed her over. “She’s gained nearly two kilos.”

“Her face has changed,” noted Kathryn softly, “she’s lost that new baby look. Tom, I’m sure she has your nose and mouth.” She buried her face in the soft down on Miral’s head. “Oh, she is adorable.”

Tom grinned happily, wearing his new role of proud father easily. “We think so.” With a sardonic chuckle, he nodded towards his father. “And she’s certainly got Grandpa here wrapped around her little finger.”

Admiral Paris’ reproving glare at his son’s irreverence lost its force as he turned to gaze lovingly on his granddaughter lying contentedly in Kathryn’s arms. “She’s a very special child, this one,” he declared proudly, “very special indeed.”

Carefully, Kathryn handed Miral to her doting grandfather, smiling as she watched him cuddle the child.

Tom’s voice murmured in her ear. “You know, if I’d realized all it took to turn Dad into mush was a baby, I would have gotten him one long ago. Might have saved myself a lot of trouble.”

“Ah, but as he said,” chided Kathryn, “Miral isn’t just any baby. She’s unique. Besides, I’d say B’Elanna had more than a little to do with the whole process, don’t you think?”

Tom had the grace to look chagrined as B’Elanna poked him in the arm. “Just ignore him, Captain. He’s much too full of himself these days. Now, when can we get together for a good visit and catch-up? Are you free tonight? How about coming over for dinner?”

Pretending to duck under B’Elanna’s barrage of questions, Kathryn chuckled, “Goodness, yes, I am free and I’d love to come over. Just tell me where and when.”

Quickly, B’Elanna noted the coordinates on a PADD. “1800 hours – sorry.” She corrected herself. “How about around six?”

“I’ll see you then.”

* * *

To Kathryn’s great delight, when she arrived at the Parises’ that evening, Harry Kim opened the door to greet her.

“Captain!” He was grinning from ear to ear. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“Harry!” Kathryn opened her arms, hugging him firmly. “It’s wonderful to see you, too.”

Tom hurried forward. “Hi, Captain, I’m glad you’re here.” He paused as she held up her hand.

“Tom, Harry, I’m not your captain anymore. I’d like you to call me Kathryn. You too, B’Elanna,” as her former engineer bustled out of the kitchen.

Their mixed reactions made Kathryn burst out laughing.

Harry stammered, clearly uncomfortable with the idea; B’Elanna gave her a slightly quizzical look while Tom replied easily, “Sure, Kathryn,” as if he’d been using her name all his life.

“You’ll soon get used to it,” she told them. “Now, I want to know what’s been happening with everyone.”

* * *

The hours passed quickly as Kathryn heard all the news. Tom and B’Elanna’s home had become something of an unofficial gathering spot for everyone from Voyager, and they were able to fill in their former captain on the goings on of nearly every member of her old crew. It was almost midnight before there finally came a pause in the conversation and she realized no one had mentioned Chakotay.

However, at the sound of his name, a closed expression crossed B’Elanna’s face and she turned away almost angrily.

An awkward silence fell.

Realizing something unpleasant had occurred, Kathryn hesitated to probe what was obviously a sore subject but she wanted to know. “Tom, B’Elanna, what’s going on?” she asked pointblank.

When B’Elanna seemed reluctant to answer, Tom took the bull by the horns. “She’s the captain,” he declared, “she has a right to know.”

“Know what?!” demanded Kathryn, becoming more and more worried.

With a snarl, B’Elanna swung around to face her. In short, angry sentences, she related how Chakotay had turned his back on them, how he’d never come to see the baby, and never even said goodbye before he left Earth.

Kathryn stared at her in astonishment. “He’s not on Earth?! Where is he?”

“No one knows,” answered Tom, as B’Elanna headed for the kitchen. “Apparently, as soon as he finished debriefing, he left without a word to anyone.”

“But he must have told someone,” protested Kathryn. “What about your father?”

Tom shrugged. “Not that we’ve been able to discover.”

“But it doesn’t make any sense,” she retorted, her voice trailing off as she made the connection. “Seven!” she exclaimed softly.

“What about her?” asked B’Elanna, coming back into the room in time to catch the end of the sentence.

For a second, Kathryn debated before deciding that with Seven’s death, there was no point hiding what she knew about the budding romance that had ended before it had really had a chance to blossom.

Reaction was mixed. Harry and B’Elanna were both incredulous, refusing to believe that Chakotay could ever fall for Seven, but Tom wasn’t so sure.

“Remember how he reacted in sickbay the day we got home,” he reminded B’Elanna. “It could be true and it would explain a lot, especially his behaviour since then.”

“What happened in sickbay?” interjected Kathryn.

“He was quite distraught over Seven’s body,” answered Tom. “I couldn’t understand why. I mean, we were all very sorry that she’d died just as we finally achieved our goal, but his reaction was extreme. And he never even acknowledged B’Elanna or Miral.”

B’Elanna nodded, her face tight with remembered sorrow. “That’s true. He behaved as if we weren’t even there.”

Kathryn heaved a sigh. “I wish…I wish I’d known. It was so busy right then, there was so much going on and I’d been ordered not to contact anyone from Voyager. But I should have, anyway, I should have tried to find him.

“At the critical moment, no one was there for him. For seven years, through every crisis and disaster, he always stood by us but when it came time to help _him_, no one did. He must have felt so alone. No wonder he left.” Her face creased in puzzlement. “But where could he have gone?!”

* * *

The following morning, standing in her brand new office on the thirty-eighth floor of Headquarters, Kathryn frowned at the PADD in her hand, which contained a brief message of farewell from her former first officer.

With a sigh, she placed it on the desk and turned to stare out the window at her spectacular view. However, her thoughts were focused inward. While her question of the night before had been answered, it was leading now to many more.

“Why?” she muttered to the silent room. “Why did he leave so abruptly? Why didn’t he contact me in person? And why Dorvan? There’s nothing there.” Her frustration increased. “It doesn’t make any sense!”

But the fact remained, staring her in the face – like it or not, Chakotay was gone.


	2. Part 2

Chakotay stepped out of the aging transport onto the soil of his native planet and looked around in astonishment. He’d been warned; he knew it had changed, but still the differences hit him hard. The land was brown, desert-like, with not a bit of green evident anywhere. No grass, no trees, no shrubs, nothing but bare dirt and sand. The sky was hazy from blowing dust, giving the sunlight a hard, brassy tinge that did nothing to improve the landscape. He remembered the rolling meadows of long grass, dotted here and there with clumps of thick-leaved trees, incredibly blue sky, and air that was clean and sweet-smelling. It was gone, all of it. He might as well be on a different planet.

Dust settled in his throat, making him cough, and he quickened his steps to the shuttle terminal. Inside was chaos as various people dashed to and fro – several ships’ officers, a few harried clerks, lost and confused passengers, and a lone Federation civilian, who apparently had the unenviable job of processing all incoming passengers. Near him stood two bored-looking Starfleet officers, their eyes roaming casually over the room. Chakotay assumed from their stance that their purpose was more decorative than anything else.

As he found a place in the line inching forward, he wondered if returning home like this was really such a good idea after all. He’d had a chance to come back in style as a hero of the Federation, but had declined without a second thought. He didn’t feel like a hero, he just felt tired.

Starfleet’s debriefings had left him exhausted and wrung out, too weary to do more than plod back to his quarters at the end of each day. As well, he’d not had time or the peace he needed to process and deal with Seven’s untimely death. Although his relationship with her had still been new, he’d been filled with hope that finally, he’d found someone to share his life. The abrupt dashing of those hopes as well as the sudden vacuum in his life due to Starfleet’s insistence on sequestering the crew had left him bitter and resentful.

For seven long years, he had given unstintingly of himself to the ship and crew but when _he_ needed support and comfort, he had no one. In the end, he couldn’t wait to get off Earth and away from everything that reminded him of Voyager. Although he was very grateful to the Federation for granting him and all the Maquis a provisional pardon and reinstatement into Starfleet if they wished, all he wanted, after the review board had finally finished with him, was to return to his homeworld. As soon as he was free, he’d booked passage on the first ship he could find heading to Bajor, and from there, to Dorvan.

With a sigh, he glanced around. Well, he had his wish.

As so often happened when his thoughts were random, Kathryn’s face slid through his mind. For once, he was too weary to make the effort to force her away, and as the line shuffled forward, he let himself indulge in her memory. Apparently, memory was all he would ever have of her now.

Thinking he should at least say goodbye before he left Earth, he’d tried to call her but her office had briskly informed him that the newly-minted Admiral Janeway was very busy and unless he had a confirmed appointment, she was not available. He had started to explain that he was one of Voyager’s crew, but the aide cut him off, repeating her earlier statement that access to the admiral was restricted to those individuals whom she had already approved. Her tone left no doubt that Chakotay was not on the list.

He couldn’t be bothered to continue the argument, instead asking if he might leave a message since he was departing momentarily with no plans to set foot on Earth again. Reluctantly, the aide had agreed, adding firmly that he had one minute. Knowing the woman would scan it, he’d said only that he was going home to Dorvan and was sorry he hadn’t been able to reach Kathryn before he left. He’d paused, trying to compress all he wanted to say into the time left, and in the end, added only that he wished her good fortune in her new life. Hopefully, the aide would pass it on although Chakotay was beginning to wonder. Well, he’d tried his best; fate would decide what happened to his message.

It was while he was waiting in the departure lounge of the spaceport in San Francisco that he’d happened to see a newsvid lauding the newest hero of the Federation. Kathryn’s image had appeared in a holo obviously taken very recently as she was clad in Starfleet’s current uniform, the admiral’s rank bar clearly visible on her collar. Chakotay had stared at the screen in shock, barely recognizing her. Her expression was hard, her mouth set in a determined line as her eyes gazed forcefully straight at the camera. Her entire bearing was regal, radiating power and authority. In vain, he’d looked for some sign of the woman he’d known so well, of his best friend, of Kathryn. Nothing. She was a different person now. He was actually relieved he hadn’t been able to speak to her the day before – he wouldn’t have known what to say.

With a soft sigh, he mourned the loss of the woman he’d once loved so deeply, before telling himself yet again that he must close that chapter of his life. It was over, done and finished.

As he slowly inched forward, his mind recalled the short message from his sister. He’d known for months that she was alive, but nothing else. Voyager had arrived in the Alpha Quadrant before his turn to use the communications link with Starfleet had come up. He had debated whether to let her know of his sudden decision to return to Dorvan, but in the end, hadn’t bothered. He was very unsure what direction his life was going to take, and wanted only the chance to sit back and look about him before coming to any conclusions.

The line moved a little faster, and suddenly it was his turn to face the official.

The man glanced at him briefly with no sign of recognition. “Name?” he demanded authoritively.

“Chakotay.”

“Birthplace?”

“Here – Dorvan Five.”

“Citizenship?”

Chakotay sighed. “I guess…Federation.”

“You _guess_?”

“I renounced my citizenship some years ago. Now, I don’t know what my status is.”

The man openly sneered. “Let me guess. You were in the Maquis. Let you out of prison, did they?” His tone left no doubt what he thought of that idea. “Well, you’re on parole, Maquis, so until that’s changed, you are a citizen of the Federation but with restricted rights.” He made a note on the PADD he was holding. “Now, what’s the name of your parole officer?”

With difficulty, Chakotay kept his voice even. “I am not on parole. I received a pardon from the Federation Council ten days ago.”

One of the Starfleet officers had moved closer. Overhearing Chakotay’s words, his eyes brightened with interest, and abruptly, he interrupted. “Are you from that ship that was lost in the Delta Quadrant?”

“Yes.”

The official wore an exasperated expression, but the officer ignored him. “What did you say your name was?” he asked, his tone curious but not unfriendly.

“Chakotay.”

The officer began to smile. “You were the first officer, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” he replied simply.

The other’s smile broadened to a grin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I’m Lieutenant Mordeen. I’m sorry we don’t have a proper reception for you, no one told us you were coming.”

Chakotay smiled gently. “That’s all right, Lieutenant, no one knew.”

The official broke in, scowling. “Can we get on with this, gentlemen?” His tone indicated he wasn’t making a request.

The lieutenant turned to stare at him. “Don’t you know who this is? His face has been all over the newsvids for weeks!”

“I don’t have time to watch the news or anything else, Lieutenant!” snapped the official. “Some people actually have to work around here!” He swung back to Chakotay. “What proof do you have of this so-called pardon?” he demanded. If his manner had been condescending before, now it was downright hostile.

Chakotay sighed and pulled a PADD out of his case. “I think you’ll find it’s all in order, signed by the President of the Federation and countersigned by Admiral Nechayev.”

The man snatched the PADD out of his hand, scrutinizing it carefully before handing it back reluctantly. “Very well,” he muttered rudely, then snarled, “Next!”

Mordeen shrugged his shoulders and bent to pick up Chakotay’s bag. “May I assist you, sir?”

Chakotay was quite capable of carrying his own bag, but the officer looked so apologetic that he didn’t have the heart to refuse him. “Sure, Lieutenant, that’s very kind of you.”

They walked outside the terminal and into a dusty, unpaved road, untidily lined with assorted prefab structures. Squinting in the sudden glare, Chakotay could see that it disappeared into nearby hills. This must be the road to the site of his village, he thought, although he would never have recognized it. But the location of the spaceport hadn’t changed and that was the right direction. He sighed, wondering more than ever if he had been incredibly stupid to come back here. Even the outline of the mountains in the distance looked different.

“Sir?” Mordeen spoke, catching his attention. Chakotay turned to face him. “Do you have a place to stay? There’s a hotel just along here; it’s not much, it’s run by a Ferengi, but it’s all there is….” He paused, then added, “I could show you, if you like.”

Chakotay smiled. “Thanks, but my sister lives nearby, along with other survivors of my people.” His eyes shifted back to the road as he gestured to it. “Do you know if anyone lives out that way?”

“There are some folks living in a few huts beyond the first range of hills, not very many, you couldn’t call it a village. I’ve only been out there once, a few months ago when I first arrived. Once in a while, someone comes into town from that direction, but I don’t know who they are. They tend not to talk to us….”

“No, I don’t suppose they do,” Chakotay replied softly as he picked up his bag. “I’ll follow the road for a while, see if I can find them.” He gestured at the terminal. “Thanks for your help in there.”

“You’re welcome, sir. If there’s anything else I can do….”

“…I’ll let you know. Goodbye, Lieutenant.”

He stepped down into the road and began to walk with an easy gait past the ramshackle collection of buildings. Mordeen watched him go before returning to the terminal, shaking his head. He hoped the commander would find his family.

* * *

For over an hour, Chakotay kept a steady pace along the road, concentrating on his path and trying not to think about the havoc the Cardassians had wreaked on the land about him. He remembered the times in the Delta Quadrant when he had described his home to Kathryn, rhapsodizing about its green meadows and thick forests, about the abundant wildlife and rich land that could grow a wide variety of crops. She’d replied that he made it sound so wonderful, she was surprised he’d ever left. He recalled how stunned he’d felt at her casual remark, how abruptly bereft as if he’d lost his bearings. She hadn’t meant her words to be unkind, he knew, but nevertheless they had hit him hard.

Why _had _he left? He’d asked himself that question many times in the last few years. As a boy and later a youth, he’d fought against the constraints of tribal ways, longing for a life of freedom among the stars – or so he’d thought. In fact, he acknowledged now, he’d left his home with its peaceful way of life for a place and a system that imprisoned him much more than anything he’d ever known. Starfleet with its rules and regulations, its uniform, had chained him with its siren call of space exploration, and he hadn’t even realized it. Not until he’d challenged Federation authority, demanding justice for his father’s murder, had he understood that he was but a very small cog in Starfleet’s machine, a cog that must submit to the greater power, regardless of what was right.

His father, his people, indeed his entire planet, had been sacrificed on the altar of expediency. Although over the last few years, he had come to terms with the events which had led him to the Maquis, to this day, he couldn’t forgive the Federation for its betrayal.

His heart ached anew at the desolation surrounding him. Would it ever end? Would he and the few pitiful survivors of his tribe ever be able to hope again? Chakotay shook his head, thinking he must be an utter fool to have come here, and yet…it was his home, and there was nowhere else he wanted to be.

He walked steadily around the bend, starting to climb as the road rose into the hills. From what that lieutenant had said, the huts should be fairly close now.

In fact, the remnants of the tribe were located around the very next turn in the road.

Chakotay paused, staring at the few structures scattered haphazardly along a small stream. Only one of them looked even vaguely permanent – the rest were an assortment of traditional tents and standard emergency shelters, such as he and Kathryn had lived in on New Earth. The settlement had a forlorn, temporary air about it, as if it expected to be dismantled at any moment. The hazy atmosphere, if possible even warmer now as the sun approached its zenith, only reinforced its transient aspect.

As he remained motionless, his eyes studying the deserted landscape, two children, a boy and a girl of approximately eight years, suddenly appeared in front of him. They stared round-eyed at the stranger, then as one, spun around and made a beeline to the nearest tent.

“Hama!” they shrieked in chorus. “A stranger is here!”

A woman appeared at the entrance, starting to call the children before her gaze fell on Chakotay and she stopped in astonishment. For several moments, she stared at him in disbelief, her mouth gaping wide before she remembered to close it. Slowly, she walked forward, hand outstretched to his face.

“Who are you?” she breathed, her eyes fixed on his tattoo.

“Chakotay,” he replied softly, “son of Kolopak.”

Her hands flew to her mouth as she gasped. “Chakotay! Pola’s brother.”

“Yes. Is she here?”

“Indeed she is.” The woman turned, shouting to the children. “Kana! Tonero! Go quickly to Pola’s tent. This is her brother. Hurry!”

The youngsters dashed down the road, shrieking frantically as they ran. “Pola! Come quickly!”

Heads appeared in every door and opening as their cries echoed, and in moments, the area was alive with people, each hurrying outside to find out what all the excitement was about.

From the tent furthest away appeared a small woman who, despite her lack of stature, immediately projected an air of calm authority. She walked forward steadily, shading her eyes to better make out the crowd now gathering excitedly around a tall figure. Her eyes fastened on the man, someone stepped aside and suddenly, she had a clear view of his face.

“Chakotay!” she exclaimed, then bolted forward to be swept into his arms.

“Pola!” he cried joyously. “Little sister, look at you! All grown up. You look so much like Hama….” His eyes filled with sudden tears as he hugged her tightly, hardly able to believe that she had survived all the death and destruction wrought upon their home.

“Yes, brother,” replied Pola, “I survived as did everyone here. And now you. Welcome home.” And she hugged him back just as hard.

A sudden commotion interrupted them as a man came running up to the crowd at full speed, yelling madly. “Chakotay!” He shouted delightedly. “Chakotay! You’re here. This is wonderful!”

Chakotay released his sister only to wrap his arms around the newcomer. “Pakorok! Cousin! I’m so glad to see you. Thank you for sheltering Pola and caring for her all these years.”

“Chakotay,” reproached his cousin. “Of course, I would care for her. She’s family. All of us here are family.”

For the first time, Chakotay looked about him at the eager faces surrounding him. His heart shrank. “Pakorok, is this all? Are there no more?”

It was Pola who answered. “We are all who are left of our village, brother. Other villages on Dorvan were not so lucky.”

“How many from the colony altogether?” he asked in a near-whisper, dreading the answer.

“No one knows for certain,” replied Pakorok, “the People were scattered over many sectors. We believe perhaps three hundred in total, about half of whom have returned to Dorvan. The rest?” He shrugged. “Who knows where they are?”

The woman who had first met Chakotay stepped forward, holding out her hand. Now that he looked more closely, he realized she was not of his tribe. Her face resembled human, but with a slightly alien cast to it.

“I am Coran,” she told him. “My husband was your cousin, Tasso. My children and I were on my home world in the Koralis system when the massacre occurred. After the war, I decided to come here to help rebuild the settlement and to raise my children on their father’s world. I believe Tasso would have wanted that.”

“Coran, I’m glad to know you. Tasso was a good man, I have many fond memories of him from childhood. I’m sorry to hear he was lost.” Chakotay glanced at his sister. “Our other cousins? Do any of them still live?”

She shook her head. “Only the ones you see here. Everyone else in our family is dead.”

He bowed his head as sorrow mixed with rage coursed through him, but Pola would have none of it. Gripping his chin, she forced up his head, gazing intently at him.

“You have to be positive, Chakotay. The People didn’t all die; we’re here, and we’ve already started to rebuild the village and reclaim the land. I know it doesn’t look like much yet, but someday it will. Are you going to help us?”

He stared down at her, seeing the steadfast determination in her eyes – and instantly made his decision.

“Yes, Pola, I will stay and help.”

Her face split into a wide, delighted grin as she hugged him again, then pulled on his hand to lead him to her tent. “Then – welcome home, brother!”

Everyone shouted with joy, and in no time, a feast of thanksgiving was organized, with the villagers celebrating the rest of the day and long into the night.

When Chakotay finally collapsed into bed, his body was exhausted but his heart and soul were finally at peace – he was home.

* * *

Over the next several months, Chakotay joined enthusiastically in the hard labour necessary to resurrect the village and reclaim the land. It was slow work, often frustratingly so, but gradually they all began to see concrete results.

Two sturdy houses were built of adobe brick, as well as a communal dining hall/lounge/clinic. As well, three acres of corn were planted in the first of several experiments to measure the extent of their efforts at reclamation.

Out of the blue one day, Lieutenant Mordeen appeared in a shuttle, carrying over a dozen small saplings. He explained that in one of his forays into the mountains in a remote part of the interior of the continent, far off the beaten track, he’d found a forest that had been overlooked by the Cardassians. He held one out almost shyly to Chakotay, adding simply that he wanted to help.

Chakotay took the little tree gratefully. “I appreciate this very much, Lieutenant. We won’t forget your thoughtfulness.”

Mordeen flushed slightly from embarrassment, but his smile didn’t waver. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to come by now and then, when I’m off duty. It…gets boring in town, there’s not a lot to do….” He paused, not sure what else to say.

Coran, who had come up to them, exclaimed in delight at the sight of the young trees. “Why, these are wonderful! A real sign of hope and rebirth of our community.” She paused, grinning. “I think I can speak for everyone when I say you’re welcome anytime, Lieutenant.”

Her words were echoed by several others who had learned of Mordeen’s gift. In no time, he found himself surrounded by smiling villagers, who thanked him profusely and insisted he stay long enough to join them for a celebratory meal. By the time he left his new friends with a promise to visit again as soon as he could, he knew he’d found a purpose to the sterile existence he’d been leading on Dorvan. Very soon, he was a regular and welcome sight in the village.

The lieutenant’s visits gradually led to a casual friendship with Chakotay. The young man’s eagerness to help and his cheerful smile frequently put Chakotay in mind of Harry Kim, who had become one of his ‘family’ on Voyager, and of course, the two men had Starfleet experience in common.

As Mordeen felt more confident of their friendship, he began to question Chakotay about the seven years he had spent in the Delta Quadrant.

Up to that point, Chakotay had been somewhat reluctant to talk about his time on Voyager. It was in the past, over and done, and besides, no one in the village could possibly relate to what his life had been like, nor did he believe he could adequately explain it to them. However, much to his surprise, his sister sat listening in fascination as he talked to Mordeen.

A few days later, when the lieutenant asked again about his experiences, Pola made him wait until she’d collected Pakorok and several others, insisting that they would want to hear his story as well. Chakotay was more than a little skeptical, but she was proven correct.

By the third session, he discovered that the entire village wanted to learn about his ‘other family’, and suggested that they gather in the dining hall so everyone could be comfortable. After that night, stories about the Delta Quadrant became a fairly regular occurrence.

One unexpected byproduct of his storytelling was the deference shown to him by everyone else. Chakotay was uncomfortable at first when Pakorok, accompanied by several of the other men, insisted that he should participate more actively in the often lively debates of the village. When he did, and they invariably deferred to his suggestions, he backed off, unwilling to assume the leadership which they were thrusting on him. However, as Pakorok explained, none of them had the command training or experience he did. The village needed someone to lead, to make decisions, and as far as everyone was concerned, Chakotay was the person best suited to do that. In vain, he protested that he was still a newcomer, long removed from village life.

“Each of us contributes his or her gifts,” explained Pola, “and you are uniquely talented to lead. That is your contribution, brother. Do not argue with the inevitable.”

She turned away to resume washing her laundry, clearly assuming that the conversation was at an end.

Chakotay stared at her straight back, then shrugged his shoulders and went to find Pakorok. “All right,” he announced, “I’ll be your leader, but only as long as everybody here is agreeable. And I’ll want lots of help and advice. There’s still so much I don’t know….”

Grinning, Pakorok had slapped him heartily on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, cousin, we’ll all let you know when you make mistakes.”

The days passed steadily, filled with some setbacks but many more successes. Chakotay discovered a steady rhythm to his life here, a rhythm which soothed his mind and left him with a feeling of peace, a feeling he hadn’t known in a very long time. It wasn’t the kind of peace that Kathryn Janeway had given him – that had gone straight to his soul – but rather a sense of being settled and content. When he tried to explain it to his sister, she remarked sagely that perhaps he had finally learned to accept Dorvan as his home. He’d stared at her thoughtfully before replying that she was probably right.

* * *

One morning, Lieutenant Mordeen appeared with a message for Chakotay. “It came through less than an hour ago on subspace. It’s from Earth so I thought you’d want to see it right away,” he offered as an explanation for why he’d felt it necessary to bring it out himself.

Chakotay rather suspected that the poor man had simply been looking for any excuse to relieve the unrelenting boredom of his duties but he said nothing, merely smiling his thanks as he took the PADD.

The contents made him gasp. The message was from Tom and B’Elanna Paris.

“They’re coming here!” he exclaimed softly to no one in particular, unaware an audience had gathered as word flew around that he’d received an official message from Earth.

His sister pushed through the crowd. “Who’s coming?” she demanded.

“Tom and B’Elanna Paris, with their daughter, Miral.”

A buzz of anticipation ran through the gathering. By now, everyone knew of the legendary pair, Federation and Maquis, human and Klingon, who against all odds had built a successful partnership together.

“Here?” echoed Pola loudly. “Here?!”

Her voice made Chakotay look up to find many pairs of eyes all focused expectantly on him. “Here,” he reiterated.

“Ohhh,” sighed the crowd in awe, while Pola, practical woman that she was, immediately protested. “But why? And where will they stay? When…?! Oh for spirits’ sake, brother, let me see that!”

Snatching the PADD out of his grasp, she quickly scanned it. “In three to four weeks, they say….” Her eyes continued to run through the letter. “Odd, they don’t give a reason….” Thrusting the PADD back at Chakotay, she turned to face the group. “Never mind, we’ll make them welcome. Although where we’re going to put them, I don’t know. We can hardly ask them to stay in a tent!”

Mordeen had been standing to one side, but at her words, he stepped forward. “I’ll be glad to arrange accommodation in town,” he offered, “and I’ll make sure it’s the best.”

Pola nodded gratefully. “Thank you, Lieutenant, we may take you up on that offer. Let me get some heads together and see what alternatives we can come up with.”

The good lieutenant nodded before turning to the hovercar. “I better be heading back then. May I come back later to see how you’re doing with your plans?”

“You’re always welcome,” she replied with a warm smile.

* * *

A sense of excitement permeated the village. Finally, everyone would have a chance to meet two of Voyager’s legendary crew.

Despite himself, Chakotay found the villagers’ anticipation spilling over, exciting him, too.

He had long since made his peace with B’Elanna after receiving a slightly frantic message from her shortly after his arrival on Dorvan. Realizing that he’d behaved extremely rudely to her and her daughter, he’d sent his abject apologies the very same day, telling her he’d been so upset he’d simply had to get away from Earth as fast as possible but that he was beginning to feel much better now that he was back where he belonged.

After that, the two kept up a somewhat sporadic correspondence but until he’d received the message that they were coming to Dorvan, he’d had no idea the Parises’ weren’t well settled on Earth. With no hint of their reasons for leaving, he was left to speculate, which he quickly realized was a fruitless exercise. He would find out soon enough when they arrived.

* * *

For many hours, long and heated debate continued on how to make these members of Chakotay’s ‘other family’ feel welcome, until finally Chakotay had to put his foot down.

“They’re just people,” he explained, “and they won’t want a lot of fuss made over them. Especially B’Elanna. She was in the Maquis for a long time, remember, she’s well used to making do. And that certainly held true in the Delta Quadrant.”

His warning served to quell the wilder schemes for the Parises’ entertainment but there still remained the knotty question of where to house them. Until one night, Pakorok made the obvious suggestion.

“We’ve got a third house under construction right now. So why don’t we speed up the process, finish it, and let them stay there?”

His idea was quickly seized on as by far the best solution. Very quickly, construction teams were organized and the brick walls rose fast, while the carpenters of the group hurried to build some basic furniture, and the weavers rushed to create bedding.

By the time the Paris family arrived nearly three weeks later, a sturdy little house was waiting for them, lovingly prepared by many enthusiastic hands.

* * *

To everyone’s surprise, when Tom and B’Elanna finally arrived, they were traveling in their own long-range shuttle.

After the first rapturous greetings, Chakotay strolled around the sleek little craft, admiring its lines. “How did you get your hands on this?” he asked, more than a little envious.

“It’s Starfleet surplus,” explained Tom blithely. “We were able to pick it up cheap. Of course, we’ve done quite a bit of work on it since, reinforcing the structural integrity and remodeling the interior.”

“It’ll take us pretty much anywhere in the Alpha Quadrant,” chimed in B’Elanna, her eyes gleaming as she surveyed her newest pride and joy. “It’s a good little ship.”

“And we added a few extras,” continued Tom, “like Borg-enhanced sensors, warp propulsion of 9.5 and a lot more firepower than anyone might expect.”

“9.5?!” exclaimed Chakotay. “How can it hold together?!”

“That’s where the reinforced structural integrity comes in,” explained B’Elanna. “It may be small but it’s tough.

“Like the Delta Flyer?” asked Chakotay.

Tom grinned. “Yeah, like that.”

“I probably don’t want to know how you managed to install what is, or should be, classified technology.”

B’Elanna smiled, showing all her teeth. “No,” she agreed cheerfully, “you don’t.”

“What’s its name?”

“What else?” laughed Tom. “The Alpha Flyer.”

Chakotay chuckled with him. “Very appropriate.” He turned to lead them towards the village. “Come this way. Everyone is looking forward to meeting you.”

* * *

The Parises settled into village life seamlessly, leading more than one person to remark that it seemed as if they’d always been there. In no time, B’Elanna was overseeing repairs to the cranky, elderly water system which had been bought from an itinerant Ferengi trader the year before. Within days, it was responding to her ministrations and producing abundant water.

“It just needed a little TLC,” she told Chakotay when he thanked her for her efforts.

“It needed _you_,” he responded gratefully.

Likewise, Tom’s energy and enthusiasm added a definite sparkle to village life, invigorating the villagers as they saw their efforts to rebuild through someone else’s eyes.

As well, in very short order, Miral was adopted by everyone and was making herself at home.

“Don’t worry,” Chakotay was quick to reassure B’Elanna one afternoon when she couldn’t immediately find her daughter. “Someone will be looking after her. It’s traditional for everyone to keep an eye on all the children.”

And sure enough, shortly after, a young mother appeared with a couple of toddlers in tow and Miral perched on her hip. “The children have been playing with her all afternoon so I think she is quite tired now,” explained the woman, little more than a girl herself, as she handed over the baby to B’Elanna.

Miral was not at all pleased to be separated from her new friends and let her mother know in no uncertain terms. Almost drowned out by the angry wails, B’Elanna could do little but mouth her thanks before turning to hurry Miral inside and into her bed. Fortunately, the child was so tired that once settled, she quickly fell asleep.

Retreating to the front porch to sit down, she found Tom just arriving back after taking several of the men out for a spin in the shuttle.

“How’s Miral?” he asked. “We could hear her roars throughout the village.”

“Oh dear,” B’Elanna shook her head. “They’re not going to want us around, are they?”

“It seems to me that they’re pretty relaxed about kids. I don’t think you should worry about it. What set her off, anyway?”

“One of the moms, Kala, I think her name is, brought her back after she played with several of the children all afternoon. I guess Miral didn’t think it was time to come home yet.” She smiled ruefully. “They’re all so good to her, they play with her and carry her all over the place. She’s getting spoiled rotten.”

“They do love children, don’t they?” agreed Tom.

At that moment, Chakotay appeared, carrying a large basket. “I brought dinner – well, the fixings, anyway. I thought you might like a break and it’s easier to eat here so we don’t have to disturb Miral.” He glanced inside hesitantly. “Is she asleep yet?”

“She is,” B’Elanna answered with relief. “Thank you. After the last uproar, I certainly don’t want her to wake up any time soon.”

Chakotay shrugged. “Guess she takes after you.”

“Oh, thanks a lot!” she snarled.

Reaching for the basket, Tom intervened. “Let’s see what you brought. I don’t know about you but after all that flying, I’m starving.”

* * *

An hour or two later, the three sat comfortably on the front porch, watching twilight descend on distant hills.

“In a way, despite the barrenness, it is pretty here, isn’t it?” remarked Tom.

“If you could have seen it before the Cardassians came,” reminisced Chakotay, “it was so beautiful then. Where you see raw dirt now were fields covered in grass or grain. When the wind blew, you could see the stalks waving in long rows, like an ocean.”

“It will be again,” replied Tom. “From what I’ve seen, why, in a few years, you’ll never know the Cardassians had ever been here.”

“Yes, I know you’re right. It’s just that, sometimes, we don’t seem to be making much progress.”

“You will.” He paused, then added rather diffidently. “It seems to me if more people moved here, the work would be speeded up.”

“True,” conceded Chakotay, “but Dorvan is pretty much off the beaten track and with conditions the way they are, not many are willing to take the chance or put in the hard work needed to bring it back to what it was.”

“We might be,” announced B’Elanna from the corner chair.

Chakotay straightened to stare at her. “Do you mean that? I thought you were comfortably settled on Earth.”

Tom shrugged. “We thought so too at first. But…it’s so…’finished’, I guess is the word I want. Everything’s been done, it’s all neat and tidy. And we find that while we’re welcome there, don’t get me wrong, we don’t really feel part of that society anymore. We’re not strangers exactly but more on the outside looking in. People make references to events that we had no part in.”

“Like the war with the Dominion,” interjected B’Elanna. “Often we simply have no idea what they’re talking about. And likewise, we’ve had experiences that they can’t even imagine. Those years on Voyager, living the way we did, they changed us, Chakotay. Earth is too civilized for us. We need a challenge.”

“So,” Tom took up the tale, “a couple of months ago, we decided to leave, have a look around, see what else there is in the galaxy. We figured we’d come here first to see you and find out how you’re doing.”

“Would you want to live here?” Chakotay extended his hand to encompass the landscape before them. “Not that we wouldn’t like to have you, but it’s pretty rough still.”

“We might,” acknowledged B’Elanna, “although I think we’ll want to see a few other places, too. ‘Rough’ doesn’t bother us, you know that. It’s finding a place to build a home, where we can make a contribution and bring up our daughter in the right kind of atmosphere. That’s what we want.”

Slowly, Chakotay nodded. “I can understand your feelings very well. That’s one reason why I left Earth so fast. Although when I first got here, I wondered if I’d made a terrible mistake. But the place grows on you and now I feel home – really home – and this is where I’ll stay.”

Silence fell for a minute before he added, “If you’re serious about settling here, we should call a meeting so everyone is aware of your request.”

“Of course,” Tom was quick to agree. “And obviously, we would expect to do our share and pull our weight. We realize that our presence might change the dynamics of the village, so if folks decided they would rather we didn’t stay, then we would abide by that decision.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Chakotay was quick to reassure them. “Believe me, everyone would be only too glad to have your expertise, never mind the shuttle.” He paused for a moment then stood up, adding, “I gather you haven’t come to a decision yet.”

“No,” replied B’Elanna, also rising. “We want to see what else there is. It’s a big change in our lives and we need to be sure about what we’re doing. I think we’ll head off tomorrow.”

“I understand.” He held out his hand. “Goodnight. I’ll see you before you go.”

But, as he walked back to his own shelter, Chakotay couldn’t help hoping that the Parises would decide in favour of Dorvan. Their presence, their friendship, was something he’d missed, more than he’d realized. To be able to blend his two ‘families’ would be a dream come true.

The following morning, Tom and B’Elanna departed as quickly as they’d arrived.

* * *

Over the next few days, the village settled back into routine, although quite a number of people were heard to mention how much they missed their visitors.

Chakotay was careful to keep his own counsel, giving no hint that his friends might come back.

And so, a month later, when the shuttle suddenly appeared overhead, there was great surprise and excitement. It circled twice before heading for the spaceport.

An hour later, the Parises appeared with Lieutenant Mordeen.

“We want to stay, if you’ll have us,” they told Chakotay.

Word spread at warp speed and soon the little square was packed with people celebrating the good news.

“We knew as soon as we left that this was where we wanted to be,” explained B’Elanna in a brief moment to Chakotay. “Although we tried to be objective, nowhere else looked as good as here. And coming back yesterday felt like coming home.”

Laughing, he hugged her. “Well, I don’t think you need to worry about whether they want you.” Letting her go, he waved a hand at the crowd. “Look at them!”

Pola worked her way through the throng then grasped their hands. “It’s so good to have you here, to know you will become part of our community. I can’t tell you how happy I am!”

Long into the night, the village celebrated its newest inhabitants.

The next day, a general meeting was held at which it was decided how best the newcomers could contribute.

Within days, they were absorbed into village life, B’Elanna taking charge of all things mechanical while Tom became the liaison for the village with Starfleet and various officials in addition to learning the basics of house-building ‘on the job’.

As well, he quickly struck up a friendship with Lieutenant Mordeen, remarking to Chakotay that the young man reminded him a lot of Harry in the early years.

More than ever, feeling welcome and useful, the lieutenant was spending all his off-duty time in the village; eventually he too built a house there for himself.

* * *

Over the next year, the news that the Parises and Chakotay had made a good home for themselves on Dorvan gradually spread through the Voyager crew. Several of their old crewmates, particularly some of the former Maquis, came for a visit and to have a look around, and ended up staying. Each one was folded into the community, contributing their talents.

With the increase in population, more houses could be built and more land reclaimed for agriculture. The village, originally a ragtag collection of huts and tents, began to take on a much more permanent look.

From time to time, news of the galaxy outside would penetrate but for the most part, the villagers lived simple, productive lives, content to focus on their community.

And then, at one stroke, everything changed.


	3. Part 3

Although the inhabitants of Dorvan would have found it difficult to believe, the rebirth of the colony had not gone unnoticed. In particular, the Cardassians, always paranoid, had become aware of the new settlement and were covertly keeping track of its progress. Fearing a resurgence of the Maquis, the Deteppa Council, the provisional government of Cardassia, even went so far as to lodge a protest with the Federation Ambassador, who duly forwarded their concerns directly to the Department of Exo-Federation Affairs.

The Federation’s official response firmly stated that the settlers on Dorvan were law-abiding citizens who posed no threat to anyone. The communiqué also reminded the Cardassian government that there was a Starfleet presence on Dorvan, which served as a de facto police force. Since the colonists numbered less than two hundred, the Federation found it difficult to believe that any kind of attack could be mounted on Cardassian territory. As well, all indications were that the settlers were well occupied trying to scratch an existence from the barren soil of the planet, with little time or energy for anything else.

However, despite all the reassurances, the Cardassians refused to be appeased.

Well aware that to launch a direct attack on Dorvan would bring the full wrath of the Federation down on them, the head of Central Command secretly enlisted several former members of the Obsidian Order to come up with a plan which would effectively nullify any possible threat from the settlement. After considerable discussion, a plot was devised which would be both simple and effective – they would kidnap Chakotay, who had been identified as the leader of the settlement. The fact that he was a former member of the Maquis simply confirmed their belief that the Maquis were on the rise once again. Therefore, by seizing him, they would achieve two objectives: as well as disrupting the villagers’ lives, and perhaps even frightening them into abandoning the settlement, they would have the opportunity to extract as much information as possible about the Maquis.

The operation went off without a hitch.

No one on Dorvan had the slightest hint that Cardassians were anywhere in the sector, never mind in orbit.

Flying a modified shuttle equipped with a dampening field to thwart sensors, as well as high-performance engines, three Cardassians were able to transport down in the middle of the night, seize Chakotay from his bed and carry him off before anyone in the village had any idea he was gone.

When it was discovered the next morning that he was missing, search parties were immediately organized but despite the villagers’ frantic efforts, no trace of him could be found.

Only when Tom took the Alpha Flyer into orbit where he could scan the entire planet was the first clue discovered. Using the shuttle’s Borg-enhanced sensors, he was able to locate a rapidly dissipating warp trail. Staring at the readouts, he felt his heart drop but waited until he could land to let B’Elanna see them, too. One glance from her confirmed their worst fears.

“There’s no doubt,” she told him as some of the villagers gathered around the Flyer. “This warp trail is from a Cardassian vessel. Their engines always leave a very distinct signature.”

Immediately, Tom activated the comm system, hailing Lieutenant Mordeen and explaining what they had discovered.

In turn, Mordeen sent a priority subspace signal to his superiors at the nearest star base who forwarded it to Headquarters.

Over several days, the wheels of bureaucracy were set in motion as various levels of government attempted to discover what had happened to Chakotay. Even though a year had passed since Voyager’s return, his name was still well-known throughout the Federation, and the Council knew that it needed to make every effort to solve the mystery of his disappearance. Of course, suspicion immediately fell on the Cardassians but when contacted, both the Deteppa Council and Central Command denied all knowledge of Chakotay’s whereabouts.

Alerted by Admiral Paris, Kathryn Janeway, deputy head of Strategic Operations and sometime diplomat, learned of the disappearance of her former first officer three days later. Using every contact she had, she tried to find out as much information as possible, but quickly discovered that Starfleet knew very little. He had simply vanished. Every instinct told her that there was something wrong but before she could take off for Dorvan to lead the search herself, she was ordered to assist in delicate negotiations between two truculent planets in the Paltor system. Frantically, she tried to refuse the assignment but Command would have none of it. She had already invested considerable time and energy setting up a truce between the two former enemies; they would trust no one else to oversee their peace talks. With a heavy heart, Kathryn departed Earth, promising herself that if she had to, she would beat some sense into the leaders of both planets so that she might return as quickly as possible.

* * *

Days passed, then a week, as Tom and B’Elanna continued the desperate search, each time taking their shuttle further and further from Dorvan, visiting other colonies, talking to anyone who might be able to give them any information at all. But they found nothing.

Their questions about sightings of Cardassians anywhere along the border were met with blank stares and shakes of the head. No, no one had seen hide or hair of Cardassians since the war, nor did they want to. Even the thought of those ‘spoonheads’ showing up was enough to send shivers down more than one spine. The Parises were forced to accept that if indeed Chakotay had been kidnapped by Cardassians, they had immediately fled back to their space.

Tired and discouraged, at the end of ten days, they were forced to admit defeat.

“Maybe he’s still on Dorvan somewhere,” suggested Tom, “or, if he was kidnapped, maybe that warp trail belonged to someone else entirely.”

However, B’Elanna held fast to her theory. She knew the signatures of Cardassian warp trails – she’d certainly seen enough of them during her days in the Maquis.

* * *

While the Parises were still searching along the border for news, Mike Ayala and Ken Dalby, who had both settled in the village several months earlier, had an inspiration.

“We’re going to pay a visit to Deep Space Nine and see if we can find out anything there,” explained Ayala to Pola, adding, “It might be a wild goose chase, but at this point, we have nothing to lose.”

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all you’re doing,” she murmured, her voice faint from exhaustion. “If it weren’t for you ‘Voyagers’, we’d be lost.”

Mike gripped her hands. “Pola, whether or not we’re biologically related, we’re all family, and families stick together in good times and bad. Chakotay is like a brother to me. I won’t stop looking, and I know the others won’t either. It may take a while but we’ll find him.”

Her eyes sunken with fatigue, she could only hug him in thanks.

With determined hearts, the two hurried to the spaceport where they would board a transport to DS9, one of their old haunts from days gone by.

* * *

On arrival at the space station, the two men immediately headed to Quark’s Bar as the best source of information for the entire region.

Although at first they could discover nothing at all, eventually, after several days of discreet questions, they learned of a whispered rumour circulating about a new Cardassian shuttle equipped with powerful warp engines, which reportedly had been sighted briefly near the border with Cardassia around the same time that Chakotay had disappeared. The story was vague, the shuttle’s whereabouts couldn’t be confirmed, and both men were very unsure about the veracity of their source. And yet, it was the only lead they had.

Unsure whether to contact Tom and B’Elanna, the two debated what to do for another day before deciding that slim as it was, they had to take the chance that the rumours were based on fact. Sent over a public comm system, their message to Dorvan was cryptic.

_“We may have located the merchandise you wanted at DS9. Please confirm if you are still interested.”_

Hoping that the Parises would understand the deliberately vague nature, Ayala and Dalby sat back to await results.

* * *

The response was swift.

Within twenty-four hours, they were notified of an incoming message.

_“Definitely still interested. Will be arriving shortly to discuss terms.”_

A day later, Tom and B’Elanna arrived in the Alpha Flyer, their faces alight with hope. Quickly, the four adjourned to the quarters Ayala had rented.

“What have you found out?” demanded B’Elanna, before the door had even closed.

Mike held up his hands deprecatingly. “It’s very little, a rumour we heard three days ago, about some kind of new Cardassian shuttle, with high-performance engines and maybe some kind of cloak. It’s all speculation, you understand, our source couldn’t even tell us if it really exists. He said he’d heard about it in a bar on one of those backwater planets near the border but there’s no way to verify if what he told us was true. It could be merely a piece of fiction, made up to con us out of a strip or two of latinum. I’m sorry to be so vague but that’s all we could find out.”

Tom shrugged in sympathy. “It’s more than we were able to discover. No one we talked to had seen hide or hair of Cardassians. Well,” he added, “at least that’s what they said.”

Silence fell for several minutes as the four pondered their conundrum until suddenly B’Elanna sat up.

“I just remembered something…. Isn’t the Bajoran commander here a former resistance fighter?”

Mike and Tom looked blank but Ken Dalby frowned in concentration. “You could be right, B’Elanna.” He glanced around. “Name, name – what was the name?”

Tom spoke up. “Computer, what is the name of the Bajoran commander on this station?”

“The Bajoran commander of Deep Space Nine is Colonel Kira Nerys,” replied the computer primly.

“Kira Nerys!” exclaimed Dalby. “B’Elanna, I think you’re on to something. Computer, was Colonel Kira ever a member of the Bajoran resistance during the Cardassian occupation?”

The computer’s response was swift. “Affirmative.”

“Bingo!” shouted Tom. “Now, all we have to do is find this Colonel Kira and persuade her to help us.”

Ayala and Dalby both looked doubtful but Tom wasn’t to be deterred. “How hard can it be? After all, if she fought in the resistance, she’s not likely to be very fond of Cardassians. We have to try,” he stated determinedly.

His confidence was enough to galvanize all of them.

At once, Tom put through a request to meet with the colonel on a private matter.

Initially, the duty officer in operations was most reluctant to pass on the message but when Tom indicated that he had information about a possible Cardassian threat, his request was granted. Half an hour later, he was informed that the Colonel would see him in her office immediately.

When Tom, B’Elanna and Ayala trooped in, Colonel Kira’s expression twisted into a frown. Clearly, she was wondering if there was another agenda here. However, she made no mention of it but got right to the point. “I understand you have information on the Cardassians,” she stated flatly, her fingers drumming on the top of the desk. “What is it?”

Her unprepossessing attitude made Tom realize he was going to have a harder job than he’d expected to persuade her to help them. Pasting on his most winning smile, he replied, “Yes, ma’am, we do. We have learned that there may be a new Cardassian shuttle in existence, one with high-performance engines and possibly a cloaking device.”

Kira’s frown deepened, her tone reflecting her suspicion of them. “That rumour has been circulating for days but no one has yet come up with any concrete proof. I’ll believe it when I see it. What else?”

Tom was stumped. His hesitation pushed B’Elanna into stepping forward.

“Colonel, my name is B’Elanna Paris, I’m Tom’s wife.” She nodded at Paris. “But a long time ago, I was a member of the Maquis, as was Mike Ayala here. Our captain was Chakotay.”

Her interest finally caught, Kira leaned towards them. “Chakotay…. I remember that name…. He came from one of the border colonies, didn’t he? And he was in Starfleet before he joined the Maquis….”

“Yes, he was. He was also first officer on the starship Voyager.”

That made the colonel sit up. “Voyager! The ship that was lost in the Delta Quadrant?”

“Yes. We were there as well.”

Kira’s eyes swept over them in astonishment. “All of you?! You all served on Voyager? In the Delta Quadrant?” Her tone was filled with disbelief.

“I was the helmsman,” stated Tom, “B’Elanna here was chief engineer, Mike was in security. That’s the truth, Colonel, it’s easy enough to check. Our pictures were all over the Federation newscasts when we returned to the Alpha Quadrant.”

Kira was already activating her terminal. A second later, she smiled. “Well, there you are.” Her eyes went back to them, her face alive with curiosity. “Voyager…! You must have quite a story to tell.” Abruptly, she changed gears. “So, tell me what you really want from me.”

Tom needed no further encouragement. Quickly, he launched into a brief recap of recent events, ending with the rumour that Ayala and Dalby had heard. “We know it’s not much to go on,” he concluded, “but it’s all we’ve been able to find out. However, my gut is telling me the rumours are true and that shuttle is somehow connected with Chakotay’s disappearance.”

Kira pondered for a minute or two, then looked up. “As I said earlier, those rumours have been floating around for a little while now.” She fell silent once more, obviously considering several options.

“Let me see what I can find out,” she finally decided. “Any inquiries will have to be extremely discreet but I have a person in mind who might be able to help.” She rose to her feet. “I’ll let you know. However, it may take some time.”

“Thank you, Colonel,” replied Tom and B’Elanna, relieved that they were no longer alone in their search. “If it’s all right with you, we’ll wait here.”

“Actually,” suggested Kira, “why don’t you go to Bajor and do some sightseeing? Play the tourist. If you remain here on the station without any obvious purpose, you may arouse suspicion which is exactly what we don’t want.” She picked up a PADD and entered a series of numbers. “This is a contact number where messages can be left and received. Check it once a day. I’ll let you know as soon as I can.”

Quickly, the three left her office and made their way to Tom’s shuttle, where Dalby was waiting for them. Following her advice, they wasted no time heading for Bajor.

* * *

While the Parises, Ayala and Dalby meandered around the sights of Bajor, Colonel Kira quickly sent a clandestine signal to an old friend now living on Cardassia – Garak. Her request was twofold: confirm the rumours about an experimental shuttle and try to discover any information he could about the current whereabouts of a former Maquis named Chakotay.

Aware that it could well take Garak some time, she settled back to wait. However, to her surprise, only two days later she received a two-word reply. _“Empok Nor.”_

For several minutes, she sat pondering the implications of the message. Empok Nor. The other space station built by the Cardassians during the Bajoran occupation, the twin to Deep Space Nine which had originally been known as Terok Nor.

Unlike DS9, once the Cardassians left Empok Nor, it remained abandoned and untouched. Situated just inside the Cardassian border, the station had been used for several months during the Dominion War as a research facility for experiments with psychotropic drugs. However, when the test subjects, Cardassian soldiers, became uncontrollable, the project had been abruptly terminated and the station evacuated.

Some years later, when a Starfleet engineering team from Deep Space Nine, accompanied by Garak, entered Empok Nor to scavenge for crucial parts needed for repairs, they were attacked by two of the soldiers who had been left behind. After losing several of his team, Chief O’Brien had been forced into hand-to-hand combat with Garak, who had been affected by the drugs, turning him into a crazed psychopath. Fortunately, O’Brien had rigged a phaser to overload on his signal, thereby rendering the Cardassian unconscious. However, the experience had left him badly shaken. As he told Captain Sisko on his return, “I’m an engineer, not a soldier, not anymore.”

As Kira sat recalling the tales of Empok Nor, she felt a shiver run down her spine. The station was haunted by too many ghosts of too many violent deaths. Not a place where anyone would want to go unless absolutely necessary. If Chakotay had been taken there, it was for no good purpose, that she knew without a doubt.

Quickly, she sent a brief message to the Parises before busying herself with the routine life of Deep Space Nine. The less she thought about Empok Nor, the better.

When she was notified some hours later of the arrival of their shuttle, she contacted them briefly to pass on Garak’s message, and also to remind them that officially, she had never heard of them. As the ranking representative of Bajor, until there was concrete proof of Cardassian malfeasance, she could not afford to get mixed up in whatever they were planning.

In other words, Tom remarked to his companions, if they ran into trouble, they were on their own.

* * *

Without further delay, the Alpha Flyer slipped its moorings and headed away from Deep Space Nine, ostensibly on a course for Dorvan Five. However, within an hour, the shuttle had eased onto a tangent which would eventually bring it via a circuitous route onto a new heading for Empok Nor, some four light years away.

A day later, as they neared the station, B’Elanna scanned for any signs of a warp signature; after numerous tries, she found a very faint trace.

Her face broke into a triumphant grin. “It’s from the same ship.”

“Are you positive?” demanded Tom anxiously.

Seconds passed as her fingers flew over the board before she glanced up with a decisive nod. “It’s them.”

“Bullseye!”

“Wait a minute,” she added, continuing to peer at the screen, “this is odd.”

“What?” snapped Dalby, his nerves already on edge.

“Isn’t this place abandoned?”

Mike Ayala replied, “It’s supposed to be. What are you finding?”

“The station’s shields are active. I can’t scan the interior and we won’t be able to transport onto it.”

“Then most likely there’s an active sensor net as well, which will detect any power signature.” Ayala said. “Maybe we better stop here.”

“With a little decent piloting, we should be able to circumvent it,” retorted Tom. His hands slid across the controls. “Cutting power to absolute minimum. We’re close enough we should be able to coast in on momentum alone.”

Very slowly, the little vessel drifted closer and closer to the nearest pylon, only a slight nudge now and then from the thrusters coaxing it forward. Slower and slower it moved until finally it bumped gently against a docking port.

“So far so good,” announced Tom, “the trick now is to activate the clamps without alerting anyone.”

Dalby stepped forward with a grin. “I’ve got just the thing right here,” he told them, “a little something I picked up from Quark while the rest of you were talking to Colonel Kira.” He placed a portable forcefield emitter on the floor of the shuttle, then activated it.

Immediately, it projected a short range low-level forcefield around the docking port, silencing any alarm.

The other three grinned their approval.

“Glad you came along,” remarked Tom as he moved to the rear. A minute later, the clamps had locked on, enabling him to open the hatch. “Okay, are we all ready? Everyone got a phaser and tricorder?”

At the confirming nods, he hit the door pad. “All right, here we go.”

The movement of the shuttle’s hatch automatically activated the station’s door mechanism. In seconds, they had access to Empok Nor.

As agreed during their planning, once inside the station, the four split up, Tom and B’Elanna going one way, Ayala and Dalby the other.

Trying to avoid the piles of debris scattered haphazardly in the corridors as well as the occasional broken conduit dangling from the ceilings, they moved as silently as they could through the empty corridors.

The Parises had almost reached the central section when at last Tom’s tricorder lit up, indicating life signs. Nudging B’Elanna, he halted before turning around, trying to get a fix on the location. After a minute, he pointed downward. “There seem to be several people three decks down,” he murmured.

B’Elanna studied the readings then nodded. “We better use the tubes. Likely the turbolifts aren’t functioning, and besides, activating them will probably alert whoever is down there that they have company.”

“Agreed.”

Glancing around, he spotted an access hatch in one corner. “Over here.”

Hurriedly, they climbed through the hatch and began the difficult crawl along access tubes long abandoned and in places, partially blocked. For the better part of half an hour, the pair worked their way downwards via various tubes, ladders and air vents until finally they had reached the level where the life signs were located.

At this point, the tricorder readings suddenly became much clearer. Grabbing her shoulder, Tom caught B’Elanna’s attention and pointed at the small screen. Three Cardassians and one human.

Her face set in determination, B’Elanna nodded then glanced around, searching for a way out of the tube. A minute later, she nudged Tom, indicating the dim outline of a hatch ten meters further along.

Very carefully, they crept forward, then eased it ajar, terrified of making a noise. However, the hatch opened soundlessly and a few seconds later, they were standing in a dark corridor.

Aware that their quarry was nearby, they slipped back along the corridor until they could contact Ayala and Dalby without being overheard. To their surprise, the other two, having picked up the same life signs as well, were not far away.

Within minutes, the two teams were able to join together and decide how best to proceed.

Tom was all for a frontal assault through the door with phasers firing, but Dalby and Ayala vetoed that plan at once.

“We’re here to rescue Chakotay, not get him killed,” declared Dalby. “Do it your way and he’ll be dead before we get anywhere near him.”

“All right,” retorted Tom, stung at such cavalier dismissal, “do you have a better idea?”

“Yes,” replied Ayala, “we split up again. One pair approaches the room where he’s being held through the air vents. Once in position, tap the communicators twice as a signal for the others to charge through the door. That way, we’ll hit them on two fronts simultaneously.”

“Sounds good,” answered B’Elanna. “I’m the smallest, so I’ll go through the vents. Tom, are you with me?”

“You’re not leaving me behind,” he declared forcefully.

“Fine. Let’s get moving.”

As they started around the corner towards the access hatch, an ear-splitting scream suddenly filled the corridor, resonating off the bulkheads.

Stunned, all four stared at each other in horror before hurrying to carry out their plan.

More screams echoed through the walls, making them shudder but not slowing them down.

Quickly, Tom and B’Elanna scrambled through the hatch then worked their way to where the life signs were strongest. Looking around, after several seconds, Tom located an air vent close by. Nodding towards it, he indicated to B’Elanna she should lead the way. As silently as possible, the two inched their way forward single file until finally, they could peer through a grate into a room below.

From their vantage point, they could see three Cardassians lounging on chairs surrounding a naked body, which was hanging suspended by the arms from a rope attached to the ceiling. Spasms and jerks caused the body to revolve slowly, as the head lolled forward onto its chest, preventing them from identifying the person beyond the fact it was a humanoid male.

Gritting her teeth, B’Elanna eased the cover off the vent.

Again, the prisoner screamed, throwing back his head, his face contorted in agony, confirming their worst fears – it was Chakotay.

His muscles stiff with tension, Tom nudged B’Elanna, nodded towards the room, then tapped his combadge twice.

Immediately, she jumped down into the room, Tom right behind her, both firing their phasers, catching the Cardassians completely off-guard.

With the advantage of surprise, they were able to stun all three before they could even draw their weapons.

Quickly, Tom leaped to the door, opening it to let in Ayala and Dalby. “Quick!” he shouted at them, as he turned to look at Chakotay.

For a second, the other two stared in horror before Ayala sprang forward with a knife in hand, cutting the rope and carefully lowering Chakotay to the floor. A moment later, his hands were freed as well.

“How bad is he?” murmured Dalby, staring down at their former captain.

Tom pulled out his tricorder. “Not good,” he replied succinctly. “We have to get him medical attention as soon as possible.”

Dalby knelt down then nodded to Ayala. “Help me pick him up, Mike. We’ll carry him between us.”

The two men lifted up Chakotay as gently as they could, then walked gingerly out the door after Tom, who led the way into the corridor. Behind them followed B’Elanna, guarding their rear.

Hurrying as fast as they dared, the four strode down the corridor to the turbolift, praying to every deity they knew that no one else was on the station.

Their luck held and they reached the shuttle unchallenged.

Tom leaped into the pilot’s seat as B’Elanna released the docking clamps. Behind them, Dalby and Ayala gently laid their burden on the nearest bunk, then covered him with blankets before strapping him in.

“Ready, Tom,” called Ayala even as the Flyer backed away from the station, then heeled around. Within seconds, the little ship had gone to maximum warp.

“DS9?” inquired B’Elanna, after a few minutes.

Tom nodded. “It’s closest and has the best facilities of anywhere in this part of space.”

“How bad is he?”

But Tom simply shook his head, unwilling to say very much. “Bad.” His eyes met hers. “He may not make it.”

Her hand flew to cover her mouth as she gazed at him in mounting despair. “Hurry.”

* * *

Twenty hours later, the Alpha Flyer reached Deep Space Nine after a harrowing journey during which Chakotay had twice stopped breathing.

Each time, Tom had been able to resuscitate him, albeit with difficulty. After the second episode, he studied the tricorder with a puzzled frown.

“What?” demanded B’Elanna.

“It’s these readings,” Tom muttered, “they’re skewed somehow and I can’t figure out why. I’m wondering if there’s some kind of implant….” He continued to peer at the small screen for several more seconds before closing it with a snap. “I don’t know,” he sighed in frustration. “If I had better equipment….”

Reaching over, she patted his arm. “Hopefully the doctor on the station will be able to figure it out.”

“Yeah.”

* * *

As soon as the Alpha Flyer was within communications range of DS9, Tom was hailing Colonel Kira. This time, he was put through to her immediately.

“Mr. Paris,” she greeted him, “how did you make out? Did you find your missing property?” Her manner of phrasing warned him to be equally circumspect.

“Yes, Colonel, we did. However, it’s been rather badly damaged.”

Kira’s eyes narrowed. “I see. Use docking port five on upper pylon three. I’ll meet you there. Kira out.”

As soon as she had finished speaking with the Flyer, Kira hailed Doctor Bashir on a secure channel. “Doctor, please be prepared for a medical emergency.”

Without waiting for a response, she dashed to the turbolift, then hurried along the corridor. She arrived outside the docking port just as the clamps locked into place. As soon as the station door rolled back, she was trotting through into the shuttle. The sight that met her eyes made her gasp softly.

Chakotay lay on a bunk, motionless, his eyes closed, his face gray. For a moment, she thought he was dead until she noticed the very slight rise and fall of the blanket covering him.

“Boy, am I glad to see you!” came Tom Paris’ voice from behind her.

Spinning around, she gripped his hand tightly. “You can tell me later what happened. Right now, let’s beam him to the infirmary. I’ve already warned Doctor Bashir.”

B’Elanna moved to a rear console, fingers flying across the panel. “Coordinates?” she snapped.

Kira moved to stand beside her, inputting them herself. A split second later, Chakotay disappeared in a transporter beam.

Tapping her combadge, the colonel hailed station security. “Commander, I want you to find a way to monitor a patient in sickbay unobtrusively so that he is protected from possible attack. Perhaps with a forcefield or some kind of alarm…. And I want as few people as possible to know about it. Can you do that?”

“Yes, Colonel,” came the reply a few seconds later. “I’ll go there now and see to it personally.”

“Very good. Kira out.” She turned to face the others. “There, he should be safe. You four, I’m going to beam to my office. For the time being, that’s probably the most secure place for you. There are Cardassians on the station; we can’t take any chance that they might discover you’re here.”

“What about the Flyer?” asked Tom, anxiously.

For a moment, Kira paused, debating options. “I think,” she said, “it might be best to leave it just as it is. It doesn’t have any distinguishing marks, it looks like any other shuttle. If we put guards around it, that alone will draw attention to it, which is what we don’t want.” She smiled. “Lock it up. It’ll be fine. I’ll have someone check on it periodically to make sure all is well.”

B’Elanna scowled, obviously not happy with the arrangement but Tom shook his head at her, silencing her imminent protest.

“That’ll be fine,” he told Kira.

“Good.” She reached for the transporter controls and reset them. “I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

Again, the transporter beams flickered as the four disappeared.

A moment later, the colonel strode out of the shuttle, making sure the locking mechanism was secure and a standard force field erected around it so no one could beam in uninvited. Then she trotted back down the corridor to the turbolift.

“Ops.”

Moments later, she joined her guests in her office above the operations centre.

Sitting behind her desk, she began. “Tell me everything that happened.”

Three pairs of eyes focused on Tom.

“As you can see,” he began, “we found Chakotay all right at Empok Nor. He was hanging from the ceiling, naked, and was being tortured by three Cardassians.”

“Did you find the shuttle?” interrupted Kira.

“No,” replied B’Elanna, “there was no sign of it. I’m assuming these three were left there to interrogate Chakotay while the shuttle took off for – wherever.”

“Go on.”

“There’s not much more to tell,” replied Tom. “We caught the Cardassians by surprise and were able to stun all three before they knew we were there. So, then we cut Chakotay down and beat it back to the Flyer as fast as we could.”

“And you saw no one else there?” persisted Kira, leaning forward.

“No, ma’am, just those three.”

“We didn’t exactly hang around to look,” interjected Dalby.

“No, of course not,” muttered Kira, her face frowning. “I’m trying to figure out what the motive is, you see, and so far,” she waved her hands, “I haven’t got one.”

Her commbadge chirped. “Bashir to Kira.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“I’ve done as much for the patient as I can at present.”

“Will he survive?”

“Yes. However, you should be aware that while he will make a full physical recovery, he is mentally impaired. I don’t know if this is a recent condition although I suspect that’s the case. At the moment, however, he is so out of control that I’ve had to sedate him.”

Kira made a snap decision. “Doctor, I have some ‘guests’ here, friends of his, who may be able to shed some light on his condition.”

There was a brief pause before Bashir replied. “I would be most interested in speaking with your ‘guests’.”

“I’ll send them along right away. Kira out.” Turning to the others, she added, “I’m going to beam you directly to the infirmary. Since it’s locked down, you’ll be safe there.”

Ayala spoke up. “It might be a good idea to erase the transporter logs.”

The colonel smiled at him. “My thought exactly.”

* * *

As soon as they had rematerialized in sickbay, the four ‘guests’ gathered around Chakotay, lying sedated on a biobed while Bashir stood to one side, his gaze fixed on them.

Realizing the doctor had no idea who they were, Tom spoke up to introduce them all, including the patient.

Like Kira, when Bashir heard Chakotay’s name, his eyes gleamed with interest. “He was on that ship lost in the Delta Quadrant, wasn’t he? Were you out there as well?”

Tom nodded. “Yes.” For a moment he debated whether to reveal they had been members of the Maquis as well before deciding against it. Even though this doctor seemed friendly, he was still a Starfleet officer. Tom knew only too well that not everyone in ‘fleet was prepared to forgive and forget; it was better not to say anything that might jeopardize his willingness to help Chakotay.

Bashir nodded. “I’d like to hear about that sometime,” he remarked before turning his attention to the business at hand. Nodding towards Chakotay, he asked, “Do you know how he was injured?”

“He was tortured for a number of days, perhaps a week, by at least three Cardassians,” replied Ayala bluntly.

“Tortured?!” exclaimed the doctor. “Why?!”

The others shrugged.

“They’re Cardassians!” retorted B’Elanna, as if that were explanation enough.

“When I scanned him,” interjected Tom, “there appeared to be some kind of implant in his head. The readings were very odd; I couldn’t make sense of them at all.”

“You’re quite right,” replied Bashir, holding up a tiny object. “I’ve already removed it.” He gazed thoughtfully at the tiny device. “I’ve heard of such things but I’ve never seen one before. It’s designed to cause incredible pain in every nerve ending. The problem is,” he continued, “that even though I’ve extracted it, the patient continues to hallucinate, and I can’t understand why.”

Tom’s gaze fell on Chakotay and his brow furrowed. Turning to the others, he explained. “Remember when Voyager was caught in chaotic space? When Chakotay thought he was going crazy?”

The other three stared at him, puzzled. Finally, B’Elanna replied, “I remember chaotic space but I don’t recall anything odd about Chakotay…. Why?”

“Chakotay’s family carries a genetic marker for a cognitive disorder called sensory tremens. The gene was suppressed in him before he was born, but in chaotic space, it was activated by the aliens trying to communicate with us. Once the ship returned to normal space, the EMH was able to suppress it again.” He glanced at the others. “I’m wondering if this implant has reactivated it, and that’s why he’s hallucinating.”

“If that’s true,” said Dalby after a minute, “then is there any way to reverse the damage?”

Four pairs of eyes turned to the doctor.

Bashir shrugged. “Right now, I have no idea. Before I can make any kind of prognosis, I need to study the implant to figure out how it works. And I should also talk to Voyager’s EMH, since he is the only one who has dealt with the cognitive disorder.” He held up his hands placatingly. “I’m sorry but until I can get more information, that’s all I can tell you.” His eyes went once more to Chakotay. “When he wakes up, we’ll have a better idea of his state of mind. I’m hoping he’ll recognize you. Not only would it mean he is starting to recover but seeing familiar faces would ease his fears.”

A commander dressed in a Bajoran uniform appeared behind the doctor. “Excuse the interruption, Doctor,” he spoke, “I’ve got a security forcefield set up around this immediate area but I need to enter your commbadge frequency so it will recognize you and allow you to pass through.” Glancing at the others, he held out his hand containing several commbadges. “I’ve already entered the frequencies for these badges. Make sure you wear them at all times. They’re encoded so they will activate only on a signal from Colonel Kira or me.” He passed them around.

“Very good, Commander, thank you,” replied Bashir. “I think with the patient’s friends here, he’ll have enough protection.”

Moving forward to join the conversation, Tom added. “Perhaps you could erect a privacy screen as well, in case someone comes in here and sees us. The fewer people who are aware of us on the station, the better.”

The doctor moved to a control panel on the wall and a moment later, an opaque screen surrounded the biobed. “How’s that?”

“Perfect, thanks,” replied Tom, grabbing a chair as he added, “Might as well get comfortable. We may be here for a while.”

“I’ll be in the outer part of the infirmary, if you need me,” stated Bashir, disappearing through the door.

* * *

Several hours later, Chakotay finally stirred, setting off a monitor which alerted Doctor Bashir.

At once, he came in, rousing the four who had been dozing. At their questioning looks, he explained, “He’s regaining consciousness.”

Immediately, they moved to surround the biobed.

Gradually, Chakotay’s eyes opened and he stared around in puzzlement, which rapidly changed to fear as he became aware of everyone watching him intently. Clearly, he recognized no one, instead shrinking away from them. Wrapping his arms around himself protectively, his gaze shifted rapidly, as if looking for a means of escape.

His actions were so out of character, so unlike him, that for a moment, everyone was too surprised to say anything.

It was Bashir who first reached out to calm him, telling him not to be afraid, that no one would hurt him.

Although Chakotay didn’t reply, he seemed to relax slightly.

The doctor continued in a casual tone. “You’re in the infirmary of Deep Space Nine. These are your friends. Can you tell me how you’re feeling?”

“Okay,” whispered Chakotay before falling silent again.

His eyes examining his patient intently, Bashir came to a quick decision. Waving to the others, he indicated they should step away from the biobed. “I think so many people here is too overpowering. Obviously, the patient is very confused, he may be suffering from amnesia, but all of you are affecting him so I can’t tell whether this is a temporary condition or something more permanent. I would suggest that you leave for now, go and get a meal and some rest. Give me some time alone with him and I may be able to get through, or at least get a better idea of how much damage there is to his brain.”

The others nodded – the doctor’s words make sense.

“How about if we come back tomorrow morning?” suggested B’Elanna. “Would that be all right?”

“That will be fine,” replied Bashir, “and I hope I’ll have some answers for you by then.”

“Can you contact Colonel Kira for us, please?” requested Ayala. “We need to return to the shuttle and she’ll have to use the transporter herself.”

“Certainly.” Bashir tapped his commbadge, requesting the colonel come to the infirmary right away.

When she appeared a few moments later, he gave her a quick update.

Kira nodded. “Your shuttle is probably the safest place for you. Contact me if you need anything or when you’re ready to return here.”

“Thank you, Colonel,” they replied.

Moving to the control panel, she activated the transporter, then tapped in a code which erased the logs. After a minute, she turned to Bashir. “How is he really, Julian?”

His reply was a shrug. “Not good.”

Her mouth tightened but she said only, “Let me know if you need anything. Anything at all.”

A moment later, she was gone as well.

* * *

Early the following morning, Paris contacted Kira requesting she transport the four of them to the infirmary.

As soon as they materialized, Doctor Bashir, warned by Kira of their arrival, forestalled them before they could see Chakotay.

“He hasn’t had a good night,” he explained. “There have been some complications.”

“What sort of complications?” asked Ayala, his face tightening in a frown.

“Apparently, the gene has mutated – why, I don’t know – but the result is, he’s getting worse. He is constantly fading in and out of reality. One moment, he seems lucid and the next, he’s in some world only he is aware of.”

His news was greeted with soft gasps of horror.

“Is there anything you can do?” asked Tom, “maybe run some other tests?”

Bashir shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t know if more testing will do any good. Besides, he’s very frightened and not willing to cooperate.”

“Let me see him,” demanded B’Elanna, “maybe he’ll recognize me.”

“I certainly hope so,” replied the doctor, “because I’m fast running out of options.”

Turning, he led them past the privacy screen to the biobed where they found Chakotay drawing with an old-fashioned pencil on real paper.

“In one of his ‘real’ moments, he told me he wanted to draw,” explained Bashir. “Sometimes, emotions and feelings are more easily expressed in art than in words. I’m hoping whatever he draws will help me find a way into his head.”

His voice drew Chakotay’s attention and he paused in his sketching to look up at them.

Seeing that his eyes were focused, B’Elanna stepped up to the biobed. “Do you know who you are?” she asked gently.

When he nodded, she continued, “Can you tell me your name?”

“Chakotay,” came the whispered reply.

“Do you know my name?”

His gaze swept over her blankly before returning to his drawing.

Moving forward, Tom held out one hand. “May I see your picture?”

Wordlessly, Chakotay held it out.

With a sudden gasp, Tom turned it so they could all see. On the paper was the unfinished outline of a very familiar starship.

“Voyager!” exclaimed Dalby then quickly lowered his voice, afraid of startling the patient.

However, Chakotay simply reached up to take back his drawing.

“Do you know the name of that ship?” asked Tom, after a minute of silence but Chakotay shook his head.

“Do you know where you saw it?” persisted Tom.

Again, a shake of the head was his answer.

“Damn, it’s so frustrating!” B’Elanna burst out. “The knowledge is there, we just can’t get through to him.” Turning, she paced around the biobed. “There has to be some way. There simply has to be.” Suddenly, she stopped, a gleam in her eye. “What about the EMH? Tom, you said he treated Chakotay before for this gene.” Abruptly, she stopped speaking as Bashir held up his hand.

“I’ve already tried that route and got nowhere. Apparently, someone at Headquarters has decided his technology is ‘classified’. Which makes no sense at all,” he continued before any of the others could protest. “Mark Ones are as common as dirt, their technology is public knowledge. There has to be something else going on but what it is, I have no idea. All I know is that my request was flatly refused with no explanation.”

“You’re right, that doesn’t make any sense,” objected Tom, “unless….” His voice trailed off as he fell to thinking. A moment later, he tapped the commbadge given to him by Kira. “Colonel”, he asked when she responded, “may I use the comm system? And may I do it from your office? I want to send an encrypted message.”

“Prepare for transport,” was her cryptic reply.

His departure left the others glancing at each other.

“Who do you think he’s contacting?” asked Dalby hesitantly.

Ayala smiled grimly. “Who would you contact?”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” replied Dalby before they both turned their attention back to Chakotay.

Puzzled by their terse conversation, Bashir started to ask before deciding he probably didn’t want to know, anyway. The entire situation was becoming more and more bizarre.

As he too moved to stand beside Chakotay, B’Elanna glanced up at him, her eyes pleading for reassurance. “Can’t you think of something, some way to get through to him?”

But the doctor shook his head despondently. “I’m sorry, I wish I could. But right now, I’m at a dead end. Unless we can get some more information, there is nothing else I can do.”

B’Elanna’s face paled as she looked at him in dawning horror. “You mean, he could be like this the rest of his life?!”

“Yes.”

A moment later, Tom reappeared. “I sent a message to the captain and asked the colonel to let me know when there’s an answer.” His eyes swept over the others before he added with a resigned shrug. “So now, I guess we go back to waiting.”


	4. Part 4

Unbeknownst to Tom, when his message finally reached her, Kathryn Janeway was still mediating the peace talks on Paltor Prime. For hours on end, she had sat patiently, listening to each side, interjecting a suggestion now and then, but for the most part, letting the two parties air their grievances. All done by the book, in this case the Federation handbook on diplomacy.

Now, staring at the PADD, Kathryn decided she’d had enough. Her crew needed her. Chakotay needed her. It was time to try different methods, to do things her way – Janeway style.

Rising to her feet, she strode back into the conference room to stand at the head of the table, feet spread, chin up – a stance which any of Voyager’s crew would have recognized instantly.

“All right,” she declared, her voice ringing with an authority no one assembled there had yet heard. “For days now, I’ve listened to all of you arguing about who did what to whom. Enough! You will sort out your differences here and now and sign the damn treaty. I have to return to Earth immediately and I can’t leave until these negotiations are completed. So I’m telling you now – do it!”

“Or what?” sneered a delegate from Paltor Minor.

The admiral marched around the table, her glare ramped up to full. The delegate actually cringed back into his seat as his face visibly paled.

“Or,” growled Janeway, “I will make sure that every person on both your planets as well as in the entire Federation is aware of who is holding up the process. Your populations are all sick of this war. I think you’ll find if you don’t settle your differences right now, you’ll have a full-scale rebellion on your hands.”

Her words fell into dead silence. Every person present knew this was no empty threat.

Suddenly, obstacles that had seemed insurmountable melted away; within two hours, both sides had agreed to terms.

Breathing a mighty sigh of relief, Janeway contacted Headquarters to report her success and request immediate transport to Earth. Fortunately for her, the Vanguard was nearby and with only a short detour, was able to pick her up.

Within an hour of completing negotiations, Kathryn was on her way home, comfortably ensconced in guest quarters, rereading Tom’s message and contemplating Starfleet’s current intransigence.

In the past year since her return to Earth, Kathryn had gradually become aware that there had been a fundamental shift in Starfleet’s way of thinking.

At first, she had put it down to changes she herself had undergone as a result of seven years of continual first contacts in the Delta Quadrant. Constant exposure to different cultures and alien societies had broadened her outlook exponentially. As well, once she’d gotten to know the Maquis members of her crew and heard their individual stories, she couldn’t help but sympathize with their cause. Nearly all of them had undergone horrific experiences – they’d had good reason to take matters into their own hands once the Federation abandoned them.

However, after Voyager got home, and she’d started her new job, she slowly realized it wasn’t only her – the atmosphere at Headquarters had changed. It was very nebulous, nothing she could put her finger on or really define, but there was no doubt that the sense of anticipation, of exploration, the ‘boldly go where no man had gone before’ attitude which had always characterized Starfleet, had disappeared.

Was it the result of the war with the Dominion? She didn’t know and when she tried to question various friends and colleagues, for the most part, she was met with indifference. It had been a very tough time for the Federation, she was told repeatedly, she should be glad she’d missed it – as if her journey through the Delta Quadrant had been a picnic by comparison.

One or two individuals, in particular her old friend, Admiral Paris, tried to describe in more depth the severe trials which the Federation had undergone – the occupation of Betazed by the Dominion forces, the attacks on Earth itself by the Breen, the uncounted billions of dead, the unceasing drain on resources. “We barely won,” he told her, “and at best, it was a Pyrrhic victory. It will take at least a generation, maybe two, before we can fully recover. People are weary, especially those in Starfleet who saw our ranks absolutely decimated. We lost so many, so very many….” He shook his head sadly. “These days, it’s a little difficult to have the same confident outlook we used to feel as a matter of course.”

“I can understand what you’re saying, Owen,” Kathryn had replied thoughtfully “but what I’m seeing here nowadays is not just weariness but cynicism, a loss of spirit as well as a suspicion of anything or anyone different, who doesn’t fit the mold. The sort of attitudes that characterized parts of Earth in past centuries, but which I’d thought we’d outgrown long ago.”

Paris had shrugged. “It’s possible. Certainly, with the infiltration of shapeshifters into the highest level of Command, we had good cause to be suspicious. And once it becomes prevalent, it’s an attitude that can be very difficult to diffuse.”

Realizing she was apparently alone in her concerns about Starfleet, she began to wonder if perhaps she was overreacting. _Be realistic,_ she told herself, _of course, things are different nowadays. I’m different._

As a result, she’d made a conscious effort to put aside her doubts and buckle down to work. And for the most part, she had been successful despite the occasional nagging doubt. Until, that is, she received Tom’s message.

Now, relaxed in the guest quarters of the Vanguard as she hurtled towards Earth, she remembered her fears and began to seriously consider her options. She could request permission to take the EMH to attend Chakotay, and with her standing at Headquarters, there should be no problem having it granted. However, seven years in the Delta Quadrant had taught her to never rely on assumptions and always have a plan B.

Therefore, when she arrived back in the Sol system, even before reporting to the Admiralty, she made a hasty visit to Jupiter Station to talk to the EMH. As soon as she’d explained Chakotay’s situation, the doctor was quick to assure her that, using methods he’d developed during their time in the Delta Quadrant, he could quite possibly devise a treatment if she could figure out a way to get him and several essential tools to Deep Space Nine.

“I’m going to make a formal request that I be allowed to take the mobile emitter,” she told him, “but in case I’m refused, we need a backup plan. Be prepared. The code word will be….” She paused to think, then smiled grimly, “Scorpion”.

Well aware of the significance of that particular word, the EMH nodded solemnly. “I’ll be ready, Admiral.” Turning, he led the way across the room to a storage cabinet, adding as he unlocked it, “Under the circumstances, perhaps you better take these with you now. However,” he continued as he handed her a tiny sealed container, “I wouldn’t let it be known that you have them.”

“I’ll keep them safe,” she promised.

Quickly, Janeway left the doctor and went in search of Lieutenant Reg Barclay. After a hasty conversation with him and several others, she hurriedly returned to San Francisco, well satisfied with her efforts.

Plan B was in place.

* * *

The following day, Janeway attended a meeting of senior admirals to report on her success at Paltor Prime. However, when she had finished, instead of taking her seat, she remained standing.

“There is another matter I would like to discuss, Admiral,” she declared, her eyes firmly fixed on the C-in-C, Admiral Hayes.

Thinking she was referring to the next item on the agenda, Hayes nodded his permission.

“Several days ago, I received a communication from an old friend telling me that my first officer from Voyager, Commander Chakotay, has been severely injured as a result of being tortured by Cardassians.”

There was a general gasp of surprise and raising of eyebrows. “Cardassians!” echoed around the table.

“He is in desperate need of medical assistance, which can only be provided by Voyager’s EMH. Therefore, I am requesting permission to take the EMH to Deep Space Nine to advise the CMO there, Doctor Bashir, on the best method of treatment. Because of the lack of holo-projectors in the station’s infirmary, it will be necessary to download his program into the mobile holo-emitter.”

At once, the head of Starfleet Intelligence, Admiral K’orandt, was on his feet. “But the EMH’s mobile emitter is classified!” he protested. “It is one-of-a-kind, a singular piece of technology that is much too valuable to be removed from its current secure location.”

Janeway retorted. “I don’t think you quite understand, Admiral. My first officer’s life is at stake here.”

“Former first officer,” interjected K’orandt.

Ignoring his interruption, she held out her hands. “Admirals, please! This is a man who, time and again, put Voyager’s, and thereby Starfleet’s, interests before his own. Without him, I would not be standing here today, and there would be no mobile emitter _in_ your secure location, He needs our help,”

Hayes gazed at her dispassionately. “I must agree with Admiral K’orandt. The mobile emitter is unique.”

Janeway started to protest but he waved her silent and continued. “There are far more important considerations here than one man’s well-being, Admiral Janeway. If something were to happen to the mobile emitter, that would be an unmitigated disaster. Doctor Bashir is a very competent man. I’m sure he’ll be able to manage on his own.” He glanced at the PADD in front of him. “Now, the next item concerns –”

She stared at him in disbelief. “Is that it?! You’re just dismissing a man’s life?!”

“You’re out of line, Admiral!” snapped Hayes.

“No, Admiral,” she retorted, “_you_ are!” Without another word, she spun on her heel and stalked out of the room, leaving the remaining admirals to stare at one another in shocked silence.

Once in the corridor, Kathryn hurried to her office then contacted the EMH. “Scorpion!”

Shortly after, now dressed in civilian clothes, she went to the office of Admiral Paris. As an old and valued friend of the admiral, she was admitted immediately.

Smiling warmly, Paris welcomed her. “Katie, what a pleasant surprise! What can I do for you?”

Although she returned his smile, she couldn’t hide the worry in her eyes and he picked up on it immediately, his expression changing to concern.

“What is it, Katie? What’s wrong?”

Taking a deep breath, she began. “I’m resigning my commission, Owen, and I need your help.”

For several seconds, he stared at her as if she’d grown two heads before finding his tongue. “You’re what?! Are you out of your mind?! Katie, what’s happened?”

Quickly, she gave him a condensed version of Tom’s message as well as Hayes’ outright refusal to allow her to take the EMH to DS9.

“I won’t stand by and let one of my people be sacrificed on the altar of expediency. Chakotay has suffered too much already for the sins of the Federation. It’s wrong!”

Pausing, she gathered her thoughts and continued. “I’ll tell you something else, Owen. I was so overwhelmed by our homecoming that I conveniently overlooked how much things have changed. But the blinders are now _off_, and let me tell you this organization is not the one I joined nearly thirty years ago. Everything that made Starfleet such a wonderful place to be, the enthusiasm for exploration, for learning, for making new discoveries, is gone.

“Nowadays, it’s permeated with distrust and suspicion. The people here have lost the ideals and principles that used to be an integral part of a Starfleet officer. I suppose it’s a result of the war with the Dominion, but it didn’t have to happen, Owen. It shouldn’t have been allowed to happen! And I want no part of it. I’m leaving.” She paused before continuing in a softer tone. “You know, with Mom’s passing last fall and Phoebe’s gallivanting around the Federation on her perennial art tour, there’s nothing here for me now, anyway. This is simply the last straw.” Pulling a PADD from her bag, she laid it on his desk.

From where he sat, he could see the heading: ‘To Personnel re Resignation of Admiral Kathryn Janeway’.

Her gaze focused on him piercingly. “So, will you help me?”

For a moment, he stared at her before slumping into his chair. “What do you want me to do?”

“Find a way for me to get to Deep Space Nine as quickly and unobtrusively as possible.”

Frowning, he contemplated his options before abruptly reaching to activate his comm terminal and hail Captain Picard on the Enterprise.

“Admiral!” exclaimed Picard, clearly surprised to be paged by someone with whom he didn’t normally have much contact. “What can I do for you?”

“Captain,” Paris stated quickly, “I need to ask you a favour. And it’s a big one.”

Without hesitating, Picard replied. “Name it.”

“I have an individual here who needs to leave Earth immediately. If I remember correctly, the Enterprise is about to depart on a mission to the Tzenkethi Coalition, which is not too far from Deep Space Nine, is that right?”

“Indeed, Admiral, we are in departure sequence now.” He hesitated before stating the obvious. “May I assume you’re asking if I can take this individual to DS9?”

“Got it in one, Captain.”

“If the individual in question can beam aboard immediately. We are receiving final clearance now.”

Paris glanced over at Kathryn who nodded her head vigorously.

“She will be there momentarily.” He paused to stare hard at Picard. “I would appreciate it if her presence can be kept as quiet and unofficial as possible. She’ll brief you on her destination. And Captain, thank you. I am in your debt. Paris out.”

Getting to her feet, Kathryn hugged the admiral tightly. “Owen, thank you, I am most grateful. I hope you won’t lose your commission over this.”

“Well, I’m about ready to retire anyway,” he grinned at her before gripping her hands in farewell. “Take care of yourself, Katie, I hope everything works out for you. I’ll let Tom know you’re on the way.” He gestured to his personal transporter in the corner. “Off you go now.”

With a last grateful smile, she stepped up on the pad. A moment later, Paris activated the controls to beam her to the Enterprise.

For nearly a minute he stood motionless, staring at the space where she’d been, wondering if he’d ever see her again. Then with a heavy sigh, he returned to his chair and set about sending a priority message to his son.

* * *

Some time later, on Deep Space Nine, Colonel Kira received a dispatch encoded for Tom Paris. Assuming this was the message he’d told her to expect, she paged him, telling him she was transporting him to her office. On his arrival, she explained that there was a message for him, apparently from Starfleet Headquarters, but it was encrypted for his eyes only.

Tom was surprised, but Kira merely shrugged, then got up and left him alone.

Intrigued, he activated the message and was even more surprised to see his father, his face lined with worry, on the viewscreen.

“Tom,” the admiral began abruptly, “I don’t have much time so I’ll make this quick. I hope you’re alone; if not, please ask whoever is there to leave at once. This is very important.” He paused, obviously gathering his thoughts. “Kathryn Janeway has managed to cause a hell of an uproar here and I don’t know what the repercussions are going to be. I may well lose my commission, not that it means as much these days as it once did. However, I’m not the only one. Admiral Hayes refused Janeway’s request to take the EMH to DS9. As a result, she tore a strip off him then walked out of a very high-level meeting, which, as I don’t need to tell you, is not a very wise career move. The shit is just now starting to hit the fan. What Command doesn’t know is that she’s on her way to you now, but you have to keep this secret until she arrives. I don’t want to ruin other careers if I can avoid it, so it’s all very much on a ‘need to know’ basis.” He paused to give Tom a tired smile. “I miss you and B’Elanna and Miral. Maybe when this is all over, I’ll come out for a visit. Meanwhile, take care, son. Paris out.”

For several minutes after the message ended, Tom sat staring at the screen before a big smile slowly filled his face. Help was on the way. The captain – he corrected himself – the admiral was coming through for them, just as she always did.

Filled with a new sense of hope, he tapped his commbadge to tell the colonel she could have her office back. “I can’t say much but you should expect a special visitor within the next few days,” he told her. “However, it’s all very unofficial.”

“Like you and your friends,” she smiled at him, understanding what he wasn’t saying.

“Yeah, like us,” he grinned back at her.

“I’ll be ready,” she promised as she prepared to return him to the infirmary.

When Tom rematerialized near Chakotay’s biobed, the others crowded around him, asking where he’d been. But all he would say was that help was on the way. For the rest, they would just have to wait and see.

* * *

For three long days, Doctor Bashir continued to try every treatment he could think of to improve Chakotay’s condition, but his success was limited.

Although Chakotay became calmer and less prone to panic, his overall mental condition didn’t improve.

“I’m grasping at straws here,” Bashir told Tom and the others. “For some reason, he isn’t getting any better. And he should be. The only thing I can think of is that this gene you spoke of is mutating. Every treatment I try seems to be successful initially but then he slips right back to square one.” He gazed helplessly at his patient before turning to face Tom. “You said help was on the way. Well, all I can say is, it better get here soon.”

* * *

By the morning of the third day, everyone was slipping into despair. The constant worry over Chakotay as well as the lack of anything to do was rapidly wearing down their spirits.

For half a day, B’Elanna had managed to keep herself occupied figuring out a way to disguise the shuttle’s transporter signal so they didn’t have to rely on Colonel Kira to move around the station undetected. However, once that project was successfully completed, she found herself once again at loose ends, a situation which was guaranteed to leave her frustrated and increasingly short-tempered.

Twice, she and Dalby got into yelling matches, causing havoc and nearly coming to blows.

After the second spat, Tom came to a decision. Nodding to Ayala and Dalby, he indicated he wanted a private conversation.

Once they were huddled in a corner, he said bluntly, “I think you two should go back to Dorvan. There’s a transport leaving tonight.”

At their immediate protest, he held up his hands. “Think about it. We don’t all need to be here. We’re just sitting around getting on each other’s nerves while everyone on Dorvan is worrying and wondering what’s happened. Also, the Cardassians don’t know where Chakotay is. If you go back, it will allay suspicion that he’s anywhere near here. And,” he continued, “it’s not likely to happen but on the off-chance that Cardie shuttle came back to attack the settlement, our people would need everyone there to defend against them. I don’t think it will but…well… with Miral there….” He shrugged and held out his hands deprecatingly. “It would ease my mind a lot if I knew you were there, too.”

Ayala glanced at Dalby. “He’s right, Ken. We might be able to do more good by going home than waiting here.”

“But you said help is on the way,” argued Dalby, not yet willing to give in. “Shouldn’t we be here when it arrives? What if we’re needed?”

“B’Elanna and I will be here,” replied Tom, “we won’t be going anywhere.” His mouth tightened. “There’s something else, too. B’Elanna is feeling very guilty about leaving the baby for so long. I think she’ll feel a lot better if she knows you’re returning to Dorvan and will keep an eye on Miral. Don’t get me wrong,” he hastened to add, “I’m sure she’s fine, in fact, I expect by the time we get back, she’ll be spoiled rotten!”

“Couldn’t B’Elanna go back with Mike?” asked Dalby, “and I could stay with you?”

“Actually, I suggested that but she’s very worried about Chakotay. She’s always been closer to him than anyone else – well, besides the captain. She thinks he’s more likely to recognize her than one of us. If he recognizes anyone, that is. At this point, who knows? The truth is, Ken, she’s really torn between her responsibility for Miral and her loyalty to Chakotay, which isn’t doing much for her temper, as you may have noticed. If you and Mike can go home, I think she’ll feel a little less divided. Do you see what I mean?”

The two thought over his words before nodding in agreement.

“You’ll let us know?” urged Dalby, “As soon as there’s any change?”

“You bet I will. In fact, if we hurry, I believe we might be able to finagle a subspace transmitter out of the colonel. Unofficially, of course.”

Both men grinned. “Let’s do it.”

When she heard their request, Kira simply shook her head. “You realize I don’t know you, I’ve never seen you, I’ve had absolutely _nothing _to do with any of you!”

“Of course not, Colonel, we’re complete strangers to you,” answered Tom smoothly, even as he reached for the transmitter she was handing him. Turning to Ayala, he passed it over. “There you go, Mike. You’re carrying an illusion. Remember that.”

“Absolutely, Tom.” Ayala turned to Kira with a warm smile. “Colonel, you have a good heart.”

“Oh, get away with you,” she told them, moving to activate the transporter.

“Ma’am, you’ve been around Chief O’Brien too long,” retorted Dalby cheekily as the three dematerialized.

Chuckling, Kira sat down behind her desk and got back to work.

* * *

Meanwhile, the four were saying goodbye.

“We’ll let you know as soon as we can,” promised Tom for what he was sure was the tenth time.

“Give Miral lots of hugs, please,” begged B’Elanna. “Tell her we love her, we haven’t forgotten her and we miss her a lot. Oh, and we’ll be home soon. I hope.”

Ayala held her hands. “I’ll tell her, B’Elanna. Don’t worry. As Tom says, she’s probably having the time of her life and is spoiled to bits.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” retorted B’Elanna.

“Ken, Mike, it’s time,” intervened Bashir. “I’m beaming you to an empty room near the docking port for the transport. The colonel has arranged for your passage, indirectly of course. Once you materialize in the room, just walk out the door and turn left. It’s the next port – B 10.”

“Thanks, Doc, for all you’ve done.” Ayala gripped Bashir’s hand firmly. “We’ll always be grateful.”

“Same goes for me,” said Dalby, also shaking the doctor’s hand. “Chakotay couldn’t be in better hands.”

Automatically, their eyes all went to Chakotay, sitting cross-legged on the biobed, staring blankly at something only he could see.

“Don’t worry,” reassured Bashir. “We’ll get to the bottom of this, I assure you.” He stepped to the control panel. “Ready?”

At their nod, he activated the transporter.

Tom stood staring at the spot where they’d been, then glanced at B’Elanna and gave her a reassuring smile. “Guess we go back to waiting.”

With a resigned shrug, she plopped into a chair. “Guess so.”

* * *

Three days later, the Enterprise appeared, blasting in at high warp.

Captain Picard personally contacted Colonel Kira on an encrypted frequency, telling her he had a very special passenger for her and not to ask any questions. “The less you know, the better,” he finished up, “for all of us. So far, we seem to have covered our tracks but if we’re not careful, the fallout could wreck a lot of careers.”

At his blunt tone, Kira smiled grimly. “Thank you for the warning. I do have some idea of what’s going on but I’ll take your advice, anyway. Why don’t you beam your passenger directly to my office? I’m sending you the coordinates now.”

“Thank you, I’ll look after it myself. See you soon. Picard out.”

A moment later, Kathryn Janeway materialized in front of Kira.

“Colonel,” she began, “thank you for your discretion.” She held out her hand. “I’m Kathryn Janeway. I understand you’ve been looking after several of my crew from Voyager.”

Taking her hand, Kira smiled warmly. “I remember you, Admiral, although you may not remember me. I was here eight years ago when Voyager left on that fateful trip to the Badlands to catch some Maquis.”

Kathryn’s grin widened. “Fateful, indeed. And – it’s not ‘admiral’ anymore. I’ve resigned my commission and now I’m just plain Kathryn Janeway.” Her smile faded a bit. “I think that’s going to take some getting used to….” She murmured, half to herself.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware of that,” Kira apologized, “although considering the circumstances, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“It was necessary,” replied Janeway gruffly, then abruptly changed the subject. “Could I see Chakotay now, please?”

“You certainly can. I’ll beam you to the infirmary myself.” She turned to the control panel. “I expect you’ll find the Parises there as well. They’ve been spending their days with Chakotay, trying to help him recover his memory.”

“Thank you again,” replied Janeway as she disappeared in the transporter beam.

A moment later, she appeared at the foot of Chakotay’s biobed.

“Captain!” exclaimed Tom and B’Elanna simultaneously as they leaped up. “You’re here!”

“Boy, am I glad to see you!” added Tom. “After the message from my dad, I wasn’t sure if you’d make it.”

Kathryn rolled her eyes. “You should know me better than that, Tom,” she retorted, then looked around as Doctor Bashir appeared from behind the privacy screen.

“Hello,” she greeted him warmly, “you must be Doctor Bashir. I’m Kathryn Janeway.”

“Indeed I am,” he replied with a smile, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I have something for you,” she continued mysteriously, reaching into her pocket and pulling out two small objects, one of which she handed to B’Elanna.

“You brought him!” gasped B’Elanna in delighted astonishment, echoed by Tom, as Bashir stared at them, his smile changing to a puzzled frown.

“What are you…?” His voice trailed off as the EMH suddenly appeared before them. “How did you manage to get him here?!” he exclaimed in amazement.

“Believe me, Doctor, you really don’t want to know,” responded Janeway dryly.

“Ah,” declared the EMH as he took in his surroundings, “I see you were successful. Not that I ever doubted you would be,” he added, as he stepped forward. “Do you have those special tools I gave you for safekeeping?”

Kathryn handed over the second object.

“Excellent.” He tucked it into his own pocket before glancing around. “Now, where’s the patient?”

His words made them all turn towards Chakotay, who had been sitting quietly, although his eyes were watchful.

Her heart nearly broke at the wary expression on his face. This wasn’t Chakotay, her best friend, the man who had remained faithfully at her side for seven years.

This was a stranger with Chakotay’s features.

Or was it?

His eyes narrowed with a spark of seeming recognition, and for a moment she thought they had all been mistaken, it was her Chakotay, he was fine after all, but then he looked away again, his gaze focused on something only he could see.

Slowly, Kathryn moved forward to his side. “Chakotay?” she murmured softly, “do you know who I am?”

Looking around, he considered her face before he nodded. “You’re Kathryn,” he answered matter-of-factly.

“That’s right,” she smiled in relief, “I’m so glad you remember me.” Noticing the drawing of Voyager, she picked it up. “Did you do this?”

“Yes.”

“That’s very good. Do you remember the name of the ship?”

But at her words, his face closed down and he shook his head.

“Do you remember where you saw it?” she persisted but again, he shook his head.

A moment later, his face was blank once more.

Knowing Chakotay would only become upset if she continued to question him, Tom stepped forward to lay a hand on her arm. “Let him be for now, Captain, he gets frightened if you keep asking him questions he can’t answer.”

Nodding her understanding, Kathryn stepped back to where the two doctors were standing together. She could hear Bashir bringing the EMH up to date on his diagnosis of the patient as well as the various methods of treatment he’d used. His face fell into lines of frustration as he finished. “I’m at my wits’ end, Doctor, I simply don’t know what else to try.”

“Don’t worry,” replied the EMH confidently, “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve that aren’t available to most physicians.” He moved to the biobed, a cheerful smile in place. “Let’s have a look at our patient, shall we? Well, Chakotay, it’s good to see you again, although I could wish it were under happier circumstances. However, not to worry….”

As he and Bashir continued their examination of Chakotay, who was cooperating although obviously leery of the newcomer, Tom spoke to Kathryn in a low voice.

“So how _did_ you get the mobile emitter? Dad only had time for a short message but he said all hell was breaking loose at Command.”

Kathryn stared at him steadily for a moment before replying, “I wasn’t exaggerating when I said you don’t want to know. All I can say is that there are people who have put their careers on the line to help us. Sorry, but if the worst happens and you’re taken in for questioning, the less you know, the better.” She hesitated briefly before adding, “Although I _can_ tell you that I’ve resigned my commission and left Starfleet.” Her face broke into a slight smile. “So perhaps you better call me Kathryn.”

“Ah – excuse me??” exclaimed B’Elanna even as Tom interrupted.

“What do you mean – you’ve left Starfleet?!”

“It’s a long story but for the moment, suffice to say, Starfleet isn’t what it used to be, and I don’t want to be a part of it any longer.”

The Parises glanced at each other in some surprise then shrugged in acceptance.

At that moment, the two physicians came up to them, which allowed Kathryn to change the subject.

“Can you restore his mind and his memories, Doctors?” she demanded bluntly.

“I think so,” replied the EMH, “but we need to do some research first.”

“I don’t want to rush you, but time is limited. Inevitably, I will be traced here and I don’t want you to be around when that happens. For the sake of a lot of people’s careers, I can’t be caught with the mobile emitter. So, the sooner you can come up with a successful treatment, the better.”

Bashir nodded. “Then let’s get started.” Turning away, he led the EMH to the lab.

At that moment, Colonel Kira appeared and was quickly brought up to date by Tom. Once he’d finished, she nodded then remarked to Kathryn, “I’ve been wondering where you can stay. You’ll need somewhere to rest and get a bite to eat occasionally but you shouldn’t be seen anywhere on the station.”

“Can she stay on the shuttle with us?” asked B’Elanna. “As you know, I’ve devised a way of disguising the shuttle’s transporter signal so we can beam back and forth on our own.”

Kira’s face broke into a smile. “I think that would indeed be the best solution.” She produced a commbadge. “Ms. Janeway, this is programmed to respond only to my personal comm frequency. Tom here has one like it. If you need anything at all, please let me know.”

“Thank you, Colonel,” replied Janeway. “And I would feel more comfortable if you call me Kathryn. Ms. Janeway sounds…a little old-fashioned, don’t you think?”

“Then, Kathryn it is,” replied Kira. “I need to get back but please don’t hesitate to contact me if there’s anything else I can do.”

“You’re very kind,” answered Kathryn. She glanced at the Parises and suggested, “Why don’t you two go back to the shuttle for a break? I’d like to stay here for a while.”

Recognizing that she wanted some time by herself with Chakotay, Tom and B’Elanna were quick to agree.

A few minutes later, now alone with Chakotay, Kathryn moved to sit beside his biobed.

Bearing Tom’s warning in mind, nevertheless she began to question him once more, trying to find out how much he knew. Very soon, however, she realized that beyond the odd fragment, he remembered almost nothing.

His voice grew querulous as he told her the others talked to him a lot but he couldn’t understand them; he didn’t know what they wanted.

“What others, Chakotay?” she queried him, “Do you mean the doctor? Tom? B’Elanna? What are they saying that you don’t understand?”

But Chakotay was shaking his head vigorously. “No!” he exclaimed, clearly frustrated at her obtuseness. “Not them! The others!”

His words reminded her of the time on Voyager when the ship had been stuck in chaotic space, when Chakotay’s ‘crazy’ gene had been activated. Was that what he meant?

“You mean voices in your head? Is that what you’re hearing?”

“Yes!”

Speaking in as calm a tone as possible, she asked, “What are they saying?”

“I don’t know! I can’t understand them! They don’t make any sense!” Scrunching his hands into fists, he pounded the bed in frustration before looking up at her, despair on his face. “Do _you_ know what they want?”

Reaching to cover his hands with her own, she tried to calm his agitation. “No, I don’t know either.” Her eyes fell on his drawing and a distraction occurred to her. “Instead, why don’t I tell you about the ship in your picture? Would you like that?”

At once, he nodded, then settled back on the pillow expectantly.

In a gentle voice, Kathryn began to relay one of Voyager’s adventures, keeping her tone soothing.

After a few minutes, Chakotay yawned then stretched out on the biobed; shortly after, he drifted off to sleep.

Watching him closely, Kathryn waited a little longer to make sure he was sound asleep, then got up to go in search of the doctors.

She found them in the lab next door, dissecting the Cardassian implant.

“Kathryn!” The EMH greeted her cheerfully. “We’re making progress.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she answered, glancing at Bashir who was frowning. “Doctor Bashir?” she questioned.

“I am certainly more optimistic now that we’ll find a way to restore the damaged areas of Chakotay’s mind, but even if we’re successful, he will still need a lot of assistance. He isn’t going to make a complete recovery immediately.”

“I see,” she replied thoughtfully, then shrugged. “Well, as I’ve resigned my commission, I won’t have anything else to do anyway. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

But Bashir remained cautious. “One step at a time, Ms. Janeway. First, we have to devise a treatment. We’re still working on that.”

With a nod, she turned to head back to Chakotay’s side. Settling once more into the chair next to the biobed, eventually, exhaustion caught up with her and she fell into a doze.

* * *

An hour later, Bashir roused her. “We’ve found a way,” he told her excitedly. “And we should start as soon as possible, especially with your deadline hovering over us.”

His words of hope brought an instant smile to her face. “That’s wonderful news, Doctor. Now, what can I do to help?”

“Nothing right now. Why don’t you go to the shuttle and get some proper rest? I don’t imagine that chair is too comfortable.”

She began to protest that she was fine right where she was, but the arrival of the EMH, who obviously had overheard her, cut her off.

“Good luck trying to pry her away from the commander while he’s on that biobed,” he rolled his eyes at Bashir. “In seven years, I could never do it.”

His words made her bristle although she had to admit there was more than a grain of truth to them.

“All right,” she told them both, very much on her dignity, “I will join Tom and B’Elanna.”

“My, my, wonders will never cease!” The EMH couldn’t resist tossing a barb at her, which earned him her best captain’s glare.

Deciding a distraction was in order before the argument escalated, Bashir interjected. “The doctor was just showing me these Borg nanoprobes you brought.”

His ploy was successful.

“I’d always kept some aside in case of emergency,” explained the EMH, staring down at the tiny container. His voice softened with remembered sorrow. “Of course, in the end, Seven’s massive physical injuries made them useless. The plasma overload effectively destroyed every Borg implant in her body and with her spine shattered as it was, there wasn’t time to utilize them.”

Stepping up beside him, Kathryn laid a comforting hand on his arm. “You did your best, Doctor, we all knew that. Sometimes, best simply isn’t enough.”

He gave her a grateful smile. “I know.” For a moment he paused before straightening up and changing the subject. “However, in this case, those nanoprobes will serve as the catalyst in Chakotay’s recovery. I’m reprogramming them right now.”

“I think Seven would be glad,” she told him before turning to Bashir. “You’ll keep us informed….”

“Absolutely,” he promised.

“Good. Can you contact B’Elanna then beam me to the shuttle?”

A moment later she was gone, and the two doctors got down to work.

* * *

Tom and B’Elanna were delighted to welcome Kathryn aboard. “Our home away from home,” Tom called it, as she looked around in obvious admiration.

“This is most impressive,” she told them. “I knew you’d gotten it but I didn’t realize how much you’d remodeled.”

B’Elanna chuckled. “This is what you _can_ see. Then there are all the parts you can’t see.”

Kathryn’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh? Well, can this wonder ship produce a cup of coffee? Then I’d love a tour.”

Chuckling appreciatively, Tom stepped across to the replicator, a moment later turning around to hand over a steaming mug. “There you go, Kathryn. I’m glad to know there are some constants in the universe.”

Between his smile and the coffee, Kathryn was already feeling better than she had in days. As B’Elanna showed off her pride and joy, she thought to herself once again how well-matched these two were. And how at the beginning of their journey through the Delta Quadrant, she would never in a million years have expected them to end up together.

By the time she had admired all the upgrades, classified and otherwise, Tom was announcing that it was time for dinner.

As the three settled down for a meal, Kathryn related to the others what the EMH had told her. She added, “I’ve been considering what to do once Chakotay is ready to leave here, and I think I’d like to go back to Dorvan with you. But I don’t know if it would be a good idea or not. What do you think?”

Tom was immediately enthusiastic. “It’s a wonderful idea. I know Chakotay would love to have you there. He’s not been unhappy or discontented but…it’s hard to describe…maybe ‘wistful’ now and then, as if he was missing something. And since we arrived a year ago, a number of the crew have followed us and settled there. You’d feel at home right away.”

“It’s a good place, Kathryn,” put in B’Elanna. “Although it isn’t much to look at yet, when you think of the progress we’ve made in the year we’ve been there, well….” She leaned forward to emphasize her words. “It has become our home; we wouldn’t want to live anywhere else now.”

Looking at their earnest faces, Kathryn nodded thoughtfully. “Can I ask you something?”

At their nods, she continued. “After we came back from the Delta Quadrant, did you find yourselves feeling out of place on Earth?”

“That’s why we left,” answered B’Elanna, “we felt like outsiders, like we didn’t belong there. People would talk about events that had no meaning for us.”

“Sometimes, it seemed as if the Delta Quadrant was more like home than Earth,” added Tom. “We tried to fit in but in the end, we realized it was best to leave and make a fresh start somewhere else. Dorvan is ideal because everyone there is rebuilding their lives. We’re all part of the community, contributing our talents and resources; there’s a real sense of belonging.” He stared at her. “Can I assume from your question that you’ve felt like a stranger on Earth, too?”

Kathryn nodded. “More and more, especially recently. At first, I was so glad to get back to my family and friends, to pick up my life and career that I didn’t notice how much everyone had changed, and not always for the better. They’d gone on with their lives, just as we did, but…it’s hard to describe.... What I’m trying to say is that now, wherever you go, there’s an attitude of suspicion and distrust, particularly within Starfleet, which I simply haven’t been able to reconcile with the organization I remember. Everyone is so cynical, so skeptical of others’ motives, there’s always a hidden agenda. And I know what you mean about people discussing events which don’t resonate with us. But I’ve also found that when I’ve tried to describe some of our experiences, all I get are blank looks and disinterest. Despite all the celebrating when we arrived home, very quickly, we became yesterday’s news.” She paused, gathering her thoughts. “It seems so ironic, doesn’t it? When you think how hard we struggled for seven years to get home and now, less than two years later, not many of the crew are still on Earth. I’ve kept in touch with most of them; they’re scattered all over the Alpha Quadrant. I think nearly everyone in the crew has experienced the same thing – a disconnect from the Federation, and certainly from Starfleet.”

Lifting her head, she smiled. “And then, of course, I found I missed all of you, much more than I expected to, actually. We became a family in the Delta Quadrant.” She looked down at her hands. “I miss Voyager, too,” she added softly. “She was as much a part of our family as any crewmember.”

“And Chakotay?” asked B’Elanna slyly, “Did you miss him as well?”

“Especially Chakotay,” Kathryn sighed.

For a moment, they remained silent before Tom asked, “And how do you feel now?”

His answer was her trademark crooked smile. “Happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

Unexpectedly, she yawned. “Would there be somewhere I could lie down for a bit? All of a sudden, I’m really tired.”

At once, B’Elanna was on her feet. “We have a spare bunk back here.”

“You’ll wake me if Bashir or the EMH contacts you?”

“Don’t worry,” B’Elanna was quick to reassure. “We’ll come get you right away.”

Within minutes, Kathryn had fallen fast asleep.

B’Elanna made her way back to the eating area. “She’s exhausted,” she told Tom, “which I guess isn’t surprising.” Moving around, she tidied up the table. “You know,” she remarked as she worked, “I’d be very glad to have Kathryn come to Dorvan. I think she’d make a valuable addition to the community.”

“She has a lot of experience and expertise to contribute,” Tom agreed before falling silent.

Stretching out a hand, he reached for B’Elanna. “Come and sit for a while,” he told her, pulling her down close to him as they settled in once more to wait for news of Chakotay.

* * *

It was nearly midnight when Doctor Bashir finally contacted them, asking them to come to the infirmary.

While B’Elanna set to work to disguise the transporter signal once more, Tom moved to the rear of the shuttle to wake Kathryn. However, as he reached the bunk, she sat up.

“What is it? What’s happened?” From force of habit, she nearly snapped ‘Report!’ before remembering where she was.

“Doctor Bashir wants to talk to us,” he told her. “B’Elanna’s getting the transporter ready now.”

Swiftly, Kathryn swung her legs to the floor and stood up. “Let me use the head and I’ll be right there,” she told him as she slipped past him.

Within minutes, the transporter had beamed them to Chakotay’s bedside.

There, the three found both doctors standing over their patient, who lay very still on the biobed.

This time, Kathryn did say “Report.”

“Good news!” beamed the EMH. “We have injected Chakotay with the modified nanoprobes and so far, the results are positive. We wanted to be sure of the readings before calling you but it all looks very promising.”

All three visibly relaxed as their faces broke into matching smiles.

“That’s wonderful, Doctor, both of you,” replied Kathryn happily.

“However,” interjected Bashir, “I should add a note of caution that it will be twelve to twenty-four hours before we can be sure this is going to work.” He glanced at the EMH. “Meanwhile, my colleague here must prepare to return to Earth. Colonel Kira has just told me that the Enterprise will be passing the station very shortly and will slow down only long enough to beam the mobile emitter aboard.”

Tom’s eyebrows went up at that particular tidbit. “The Enterprise!” he murmured, with a hard look at Kathryn. “How did you ever manage to get Picard – ”

He got no further.

“I told you before, Tom, you don’t want to know.” Kathryn’s tone was firm. “Suffice to say, we have received assistance from several people who shall remain nameless.”

“Yes, ma’am!” he muttered.

Meanwhile, Kathryn had already turned away to hold out her hands to the EMH. “Thank you,” she told him, “for…oh…everything!”

He smiled down at her warmly. “You know you can always count on me.”

“Indeed I do, Doctor.” Quickly, she hugged him then stepped back as Tom moved forward.

“Good to see you, Doc, I wish we’d had more time. Maybe someday, if they ever let you out, you can come and visit us.”

“I’d like that, Mr. Paris.”

As B’Elanna moved to his side, she reached up to kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks from me, too,” she whispered, then with a few deft touches downloaded him into the mobile emitter.

“Bashir to Kira, he’s ready.”

A minute later, the emitter disappeared in a transporter beam.

For a moment longer, Kathryn gazed at the spot before turning around to move over to the biobed. Gazing down at Chakotay, she stroked his face gently, then looked up at Bashir. “Will it really work?”

“I believe so. If you look at the monitor here,” he indicated the console now installed at the foot of the bed, “you can see that the damaged areas of his brain are gradually returning to normal.”

Joined by Tom and B’Elanna, they all stood around the console, staring at the readouts as Bashir indicated where he meant. “Here and here”, his finger brushed the screen, “is where the injuries were most severe. It may not look like much yet, but believe me, he is getting better. However, as I told you, it’s a slow process. You can go back to the shuttle and get some more rest, if you like.”

Kathryn started to protest even as Tom and B’Elanna shook their heads. She smiled at Bashir. “I think we would all like to stay with him, Doctor.”

“Very well,” he agreed. “Perhaps, since you’re here, I’ll go lie down myself. I’ve been up for nearly twenty-four hours.” He gestured to the console. “I’ll be in the next room. Call me if there’s a sudden increase or decrease in his rate of progress.”

“We’ll do that,” promised Kathryn. “And, Doctor? Thank you for all you’ve done for Chakotay. I know he’d be dead by now if it weren’t for you.” Her eyes were luminous.

Bashir’s eyes strayed to Chakotay. “I’m glad I was able to do something for him. What he suffered….” He paused momentarily, then straightened, obviously deciding it was a topic best left alone. “Well, I’ll see you in a few hours.”

After he’d gone, the three settled into their chairs.

“You know, I think this chair is becoming a permanent part of my anatomy,” muttered Tom, as he twisted about, trying to find the most comfortable position.

“You can say that again!” swore B’Elanna with feeling.

With a smile for her companions, Kathryn pulled her chair close to the biobed, where she could easily grasp Chakotay’s hand.

Despite their complaints, within half an hour, both the Parises had dozed off.

However, Kathryn, having slept for several hours earlier, remained wide awake, gently stroking Chakotay’s hand, a contemplative expression on her face.

She was still sitting there early in the morning when Bashir woke up, then rose to check on his patient. Her eyes focused inward, she was unaware of his presence until he spoke to her, making her jump.

“Doctor!” she exclaimed, startled. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he apologized, moving to the console.

Gently placing Chakotay’s hand on the bed, she rose stiffly to her feet. “I checked the readings several times, and from what I could see, he is improving steadily.”

As she joined him at the console, he nodded, clearly pleased. “Indeed he is. In fact, I would say the nanoprobes have done their job and the treatment is finished.”

“Can we wake him?” she asked, clearly impatient to know how much Chakotay had recovered.

“No, not yet,” replied Bashir. “I would rather give his brain more time to heal and let him wake up on his own.”

“Yes, I see,” agreed Kathryn. Stretching up as far as she could to ease stiff muscles, she added, “I don’t suppose there’d be a cup of coffee available, would there?”

“I think I could find one for you,” he smiled at her. “How do you like it?”

“Black and strong,” she declared firmly.

Nodding, he disappeared out the door only to return a minute later with a cup in each hand. “Here you are,” he told her as he handed over a steaming mug.

Taking it, Kathryn sniffed the contents as a rapturous expression settled on her face. “Ah, thank you, Doctor. You’re a lifesaver in more ways than one.”

“I hope it’s not too strong,” he ventured. “I prefer tea myself,” he added, indicating his own mug.

“It’s perfect,” she replied, sipping contentedly.

By common consent, they both moved to stand next to the biobed, staring down at Chakotay in silence.

After several minutes had passed, Bashir remarked, “Can I ask you something?”

She nodded then glanced at the two sleepers behind her. “Why don’t we go to the lab where we can talk without disturbing them?”

Bashir led the way out the door then continued with his question. “I hope you won’t think I’m impertinent but I must admit to a certain curiosity. Serving together as you did on Voyager, for so long and in such unusual circumstances, you and Chakotay must have grown very close.”

For a moment, he thought she wouldn’t answer, but then she murmured, “Yes, very close indeed. He was my best friend and I was his. Without him, we would never have made it home.”

“But after you came back?”

Her eyes fell and she bit her lip. “We didn’t part on very good terms. Well, in fact, we never said goodbye at all. Suddenly he was simply gone, leaving only a brief message saying he was returning to Dorvan and wishing me well. At first, I didn’t know what to make of it – I’ll admit I was hurt that he hadn’t tried to see me – then after a while, when I continued to hear nothing from him, I got angry.

“I decided I didn’t need him any more, that I’d moved beyond him. But I was wrong, terribly wrong. This last year, I’ve needed him more than I ever did in the Delta Quadrant. I’ve missed him so much and I didn’t even know it! I’ve been such a fool!”

Furiously, she rubbed at her face, trying to force back the sudden tears.

Taking her cup, Bashir set it aside, then slid his arm around her shoulders. “There’s no one here but us,” he told her gently, “so if you feel like crying, go ahead. I won’t say anything.”

His words coaxed a reluctant smile out of her. “Thanks, Doctor, but admirals don’t cry. It’s against the rules, you know.”

“Ah, but you’re not an admiral anymore, so it’s all right now.”

Slack-jawed in shock, she stared at him. Clearly, she’d forgotten. Then as her breath caught in a sudden sob, she turned her face into his shoulder.

Steadily, he stroked her back, comforting her until she stopped shuddering. For a few minutes, she continued to lean against him before pulling back with a tentative smile.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice still a little raw, “I’m fine now.”

Picking up their cups, he handed her the coffee before sipping his tea. Neither said anything – there was no need for words as both stood in companionable silence.

The sounds of someone entering the infirmary made Bashir hasten out of the room to deal with the latest arrival while Kathryn resumed her seat at Chakotay’s side.

* * *

Some time later, Tom and B’Elanna woke up, both complaining of sore backs although they refused to return to the shuttle, vowing to keep Kathryn company during her long watch. However, it was several hours later, around noon, before Chakotay finally began to awaken.

Not wanting to frighten him, they all tried not to hover over him as they watched his eyes slowly open.

Blinking repeatedly, he rubbed his eyes before focusing on the anxious faces surrounding the biobed. Their worried faces made him fear some dreadful calamity.

“What happened?” he whispered, “Where am I?”

Reaching for his hand, Kathryn asked the first question. “Do you know who I am?”

He stared at her. “Of course – Kathryn.” His tone made it clear that he didn’t understand why she would ask such a silly question. Glancing around, he saw the others and added, “And there are Tom and B’Elanna. Why? What’s going on?”

Before she could answer, he spotted Bashir and his eyes narrowed into a frown. “You’re sort of familiar but I don’t recall your name.”

“This is Doctor Bashir, the CMO of Deep Space Nine,” explained Kathryn.

“Deep Space Nine?!” exclaimed Chakotay. “How did I get here? Kathryn, what’s going on?”

She held up her hands to stem the flow of questions. “Let me finish. I need to know what you remember.”

At his nod, she continued. “Do you recall what happened to you on Dorvan?”

Chakotay’s frown deepened. “Kathryn, I haven’t been on Dorvan for many years. You know that.”

There was complete silence as they all mulled over that statement.

“It’s only reasonable to expect there will be gaps,” began Bashir slowly, his forehead creased in concern. “Hopefully, with time, they’ll fill in.”

Kathryn focused once more on Chakotay. “Tell me, what is the last thing you remember before today?” she demanded.

“I was trying to say goodbye to you in a message, right after our last debriefing,” he began, his face contorted as he concentrated on the memory. “Only I couldn’t find the right words for what I wanted to say. Your aide was so abrupt – she’d already refused to let me speak to you, even for a minute.”

It was Kathryn’s turn to scowl, as she remembered wondering why Chakotay had left a message rather than trying to contact her directly. Now she knew.

He continued, “I remember sitting in the departure lounge of the spaceport and seeing you in a newsvid, and realizing I didn’t know you at all anymore. You had become some remote figure of power and authority, with no resemblance to the woman I’d known on Voyager. I remember thinking it was probably just as well I hadn’t been able to talk to you – I wouldn’t have known what to say.”

Appalled by his words, she stared at him, horrified that she had allowed herself to be so transformed by an admiral’s bars as to be unrecognizable to her dearest friend. “That’s all over with,” she finally managed to get out through a throat thick with regrets, “that woman is gone and you won’t see her again.”

Chakotay smiled warmly, making her heart turn over. “I’m glad to know that Kathryn was still there, even if hidden under the uniform.”

The doctor chose that moment to interrupt. “I need to run some more tests, Chakotay, and,” he glanced at his visitors, “I want all of you to go back to the shuttle, eat a decent meal and get some rest. You may return here after dinner.”

Recognizing the wisdom of his words, they agreed, although Tom and B’Elanna each took a few moments to tell Chakotay how glad they were to have him back.

Their words left him more puzzled than ever but, realizing that their relieved expressions were a good sign, he decided he could wait for a while to learn what was going on. Besides, he was starting to feel quite tired. Lying back on the bed, he closed his eyes to rest.

* * *

Later that evening, the Parises and Kathryn returned to the infirmary, all three feeling much refreshed. The relief of knowing Chakotay was on the mend had done as much to revive their spirits, they agreed, as food and sleep.

When they arrived, Chakotay was awake, reading a PADD. His face lit up when they appeared and he greeted them delightedly.

“I’m catching up with the galaxy,” he chuckled, indicating the PADD, which he explained contained a condensed version of news for the last year.

As he spoke, Doctor Bashir came in. “Hello there, I thought I heard voices,” he welcomed them with a smile. “And before you ask, let me say that I’m very pleased with Chakotay’s progress. The nanoprobes have worked even better than I hoped, and as well,” he directed his comment to Chakotay, “I have successfully deactivated your mutated gene. All being well, this time, it should stay dormant, although you will need to be alert in case it reactivates again.”

At that point, Kathryn intervened. “I’ll keep a close eye on him, Doctor. At the first sign of trouble, we’ll find the nearest medical facility, or get him to Earth if we have to.”

Her words made Chakotay grin. “And may I ask when you appointed yourself my nursemaid?”

“When I found out what happened to you,” she answered, her solemn tone a contrast to his teasing. “At that moment, I knew you were more important to me than anything or anyone else.” Pausing, she licked her lips nervously before adding hesitantly, “I hope you’ll allow me in your life again.” Her eyes, usually so full of confidence, now were filled with anxiety.

Astonished at her words as well as her demeanour, he stared at her in wonder. Could it be that after so many years, they had finally reached the pivotal point in their relationship? Was she really willing to take that next step with him? He had to make sure before they went any further.

“Let me be very clear about this,” he told her firmly. “You want to stay with me?”

Her reply was a nod.

“For how long?” he pressed her.

“The rest of my life, if you’ll have me,” she replied steadily.

Hope leaped into his face but he held back, determined to be absolutely sure of her intentions.

“And where are you going to live?” he demanded.

Kathryn looked down at her hands, suddenly thinking maybe she had jumped to a wrong conclusion. His questions were unnerving her, but – she’d come this far, she might as well finish. Lifting her head, she squared her shoulders and faced him full on.

“Hopefully with you, but if you’d rather I didn’t, I’ll find a bed somewhere.”

Reaching for her hands, he tugged her close to him. “I think you better be with me; I’m already used to you.”

Her heart was thumping with anticipation. Inching nearer, her eyes focused intently on him, she slid her hands onto his chest. “That was a long time ago. Maybe I’ve changed.”

“Still like coffee first thing out of bed?”

Wordlessly, she nodded.

He chuckled. “You haven’t changed.”

Tugging her forward the last few inches into his arms, he pulled her down to kiss her, his lips full of promise as they moved over hers.

She responded at once, pressing as close to him as she could, her hands around his neck to hold him in place as she kissed him back.

Watching from behind, Tom and B’Elanna nudged each other then backed away, their faces wreathed in identical grins. Once out of sight, they high-fived one another in unrestrained glee, “Yes!” before turning around to find Bashir talking to Colonel Kira , who was looking very worried.

As soon as Kira saw them, she came across the room. “We’ve got problems,” she began without preamble. “I’ve just learned that Starfleet is on the warpath hunting for Kathryn, and despite our precautions, the trail is leading here. She needs to leave, the sooner the better.”

Tom gazed at her, then began to pace slowly to the wall and back, obviously thinking hard.

Watching him nervously, B’Elanna finally demanded. “Tom, what are you plotting?”

But he didn’t answer her. Instead, after a moment, he looked at Bashir. “Could Chakotay be discharged sooner than you’d planned?” he asked.

“How soon?” Bashir answered with a question.

“In an hour?”

Pursing his lips, now it was the doctor’s turn to pace as he thought through the ramifications of what Tom was asking. Finally, he sighed. “It’s possible, although it’s certainly not my first choice.”

“Nor mine,” agreed Tom, “but it_ is_ possible.”

“Yes. And under the circumstances, it’s a compromise I can live with. However,” he added firmly, “he must follow my instructions precisely and at the first sign of trouble, he has to come back here. He’s not out of the woods yet, not by a long shot.”

“Agreed. I’ll make sure he behaves and I know Kathryn will, too.” He chuckled. “In fact, she’ll probably drive him nuts.”

Picking up a PADD, Bashir started to enter instructions while B’Elanna turned back to tell Chakotay and Kathryn they were leaving.

* * *

Within half an hour, last minute instructions handed out and well wishes exchanged, Kira beamed them all to the shuttle.

As soon as Chakotay was strapped securely into the bunk, Tom ordered the docking clamps released.

For a minute, the shuttle drifted gently before he engaged thrusters. Once clear of the station, he went to maximum warp.

They were together and on their way home.


	5. Part 5: Epilogue

The sudden appearance of the Alpha Flyer on Dorvan Five caught the village completely by surprise. However, astonishment was quickly followed by rejoicing when the news spread about who was on board. Very quickly, a welcome-home party was organized for Chakotay and his escort. And when the villagers learned that the woman accompanying him was none other than the legendary captain of Voyager herself, their enthusiasm knew no bounds. The celebrations continued long into the night as everyone had to hear all the details of their adventure.

Still weak and exhausted from the trip, Chakotay retired early to his house, accompanied by the love of his life on one side and his doting sister on the other.

Very quickly, the two women had sized each other up and wordlessly come to an understanding. For both of them, the wellbeing of this man was the most important thing in the universe and both would do whatever it took to maintain it. If that included single-handedly fighting off Cardassians or any other threat, then so be it.

Watching the two carefully assisting Chakotay, Tom murmured to his wife that by the looks of things, Miral wasn’t the only one who would soon be spoiled rotten.

Although she chuckled softly, B’Elanna reminded him that after what Chakotay had been through, he deserved a little spoiling.

* * *

In the days and weeks that followed, as village life once more returned to normal, Chakotay slowly recovered from his injuries.

True to her word, Kathryn was careful to follow Doctor Bashir’s instructions precisely, monitoring Chakotay constantly to the point where he complained that he couldn’t even use the bathroom without her hovering over him.

His complaints fell on deaf ears.

Much to the amusement of the entire village, Kathryn used every trick in her extensive repertoire to ensure he did exactly as she bade him, to the point where his sister was heard to remark that her father must be turning over in his grave. The contrary had finally been tamed.

Thanks to the persistence of Lieutenant Mordeen, who by now had taken up permanent residence in the village, Starfleet stationed two runabouts at the spaceport with a crew of three, whose job it was to patrol the region of space around Dorvan and several neighbouring planets. There would be no more kidnappings by Cardassian raiders or anyone else if Starfleet could possibly help it.

* * *

Some months passed before Kathryn and her cohorts eventually learned what the fallout had been at Starfleet Command. Only when newly-retired Admiral Paris came for a long visit with his son and family did they finally hear the whole story.

As Kathryn had feared, Command had eventually discovered what she’d done, as well as who had helped her. Repercussions had promised to be swift and wide-spread. In particular, Admiral K’Orandt had been livid that she had been able to remove the holo-emitter so easily from Jupiter Station and smuggle it to Deep Space Nine. He, especially, had pushed for full court-martials for everyone involved.

Fortunately, calmer heads had prevailed.

Although angry, Admiral Hayes had been quick to realize that since no real harm had been done – in fact, the holo-emitter had been returned before it was officially discovered to be missing – it might behoove Starfleet to go easy on the perpetrators. As he explained to his fellow admirals, if Command dealt out harsh punishment, inevitably the story would be leaked to the media, and then there would be hell to pay.

“I might remind you, gentlemen,” he added, “that our request for additional funding goes before the Federation Council in the next few weeks. I have no wish at all to face a hostile citizenry who, if mobilized, will very likely sway the Council to not only refuse our request but likely cut our budget as well. In short, right now, we need all the good publicity we can get. Court-martials will not serve that end at all.”

“But…but…!” blustered K’Orandt, unwilling to give in so easily, “there has to be some punishment. We can’t just let them off scot-free.”

Silence fell around the table. The admiral had a point. Regulations had been broken, classified material had been removed without authorization, someone had to take the fall.

After a moment, Admiral Paris had spoken up. “If you really find it necessary to punish someone, then punish me. I was the most senior officer involved; therefore you could say I’m the one responsible for the actions of everyone else.”

Several soft gasps echoed from those who hadn’t known about Paris’ involvement.

“I’m not sure what that would accomplish,” replied Hayes. “And quite frankly, it could open a can of worms that I really don’t want to get into. Such action could easily reflect back on Command as a whole, leading the general public to wonder exactly what’s going on here. I think court-martialing you would be an over-reaction.” He held up a hand as K’Orandt opened his mouth to speak. “However, I have to agree with Admiral K’Orandt that some action needs to be taken.”

“Well,” answered Paris, “I did tell Katie Janeway that I was about ready to retire. Would that satisfy you?”

Hayes scowled but nodded. “I don’t like to lose your knowledge and experience, Owen, but perhaps it would be the best way out of what’s becoming an increasingly messy situation.”

* * *

“And so,” concluded Owen Paris to his rapt audience, “that’s exactly what I did. Officially, I’ve simply decided to take early retirement. Unofficially but generally known through ‘fleet and within the Council, I’m the scapegoat.”

Kathryn stared at him, horrified. “Owen, I’m so sorry. I should have gone back and faced them myself. I never meant for all this to land on your head.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t,” he told her, reaching over to pat her hand. “It makes very little difference to me, and if you had gone back, they would not only have court-martialled you but sent you to prison. They were pretty angry, Katie.”

From beside her, Chakotay spoke up. “Then I, for one, am also very grateful to you, not only for helping me personally but also for doing something that allows Kathryn to remain here.”

“There is one thing,” Paris continued. “It would probably not be a good idea for either of you to leave Dorvan any time soon, and certainly not to set foot on Earth. At least not for a few years until memories have faded a bit.”

Kathryn smiled. “Not a chance of that,” she promised. “I have everything I want right here. This is home now.”

Beside her, Chakotay added with a warm smile, “For both of us.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted May 23, 2008 - MaryS


End file.
